Eternal waking dream
by Niahara Erskine
Summary: Hawke and her party fled Kirkwall as a result of the events succeding the blowing up of the Chantry. Hunted from all sides, there is only one nation that can shelter them and one person that might understand them, the hero of Ferelden. Hiatus
1. Prologue

_**_**A/N Hello there! Those of you who read some of my other works probably noticed this is my first attempt at a Dragon Age fanfic. The idea came to me as a joke at first wondering what would happen if the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall would meet and compare their bands of merry men. Who would have the craziest bunch? Then I started thinking what would happen if said bands would meet and the idea turned from a funny one to a more serious one and this is what came from it. As usual I do not own anything and English is not my native language. Enjoy and please review!**_**_

* * *

><p>Vigil's Keep was bathed in darkness; its massive shape slightly revealed by the pale light of the full moon adorning the Fereldan sky. In the farthest corner of the citadel a lone light flickered weakly, almost going out as its owner stood hunched over some parchments, reading them with tired eyes. The figure had short hair cropped at the base of her neck, revealing pointy ears. The shuffle of the papers was the only sound in the room, but now and then she, for clearly the shadowed figure was a she would let out a barely audible sigh. For a moment her eyes flickered to the bed that stood so tempting near the desk and the light of the candle revealed a pair of emerald eyes. Deciding enough was enough, the figure rose from her seat and pushed the parchments away. She neatly arranged her chair back in its place, but instead of going to bed she left the room and headed down the narrow hallway, guided by the candles that stood perched on the walls.<p>

"Commander?"

A deep voice rang in the hallway and the elf turned around to meet the owner of the voice.

"Is everything all right?"

The man stood in the shadows, but one could still make out his dark eyes and raven hair.

"Yes…and no…" her voice sounded tired as well, though it was clear and soft much like that of a child. "The scout who returned from Kirkwall brought back dire news. Yet nothing can be done now and frankly it shouldn't bother us, though I dare say in one way or the other the Grey Wardens will still be involved. It remains to be seen whether for the better or for the worst."

"I do not wish to sound rude, Commander…" the voice trailed off as the she-elf gave him a stern glare.

"How many times must I ask you to call me by my given name, Nate, at least when there are no other Wardens around? Sigrun and Oghren not included!"

"Very well, Neria! Since you are so adamant that I call you by your given name and considering the fact that we are friends may I point out that it is bloody madness to stay awake until this time of the night,  
>especially after recovering from a poisoned wound so to read bloody bad news from the Free Marches! Honestly that place is full of scum; it's a wonder if you ever hear any good news!"<p>

The elf, Neria, chuckled, but even that simple movement made her wince in pain, a clear sign that  
>despite her late night tendencies she was far from healed.<p>

"Bloody nug-humping Hurlock!" she hissed through her teeth and watched a bemused Nate grin in an 'I told you so way.'

"You've clearly spent too much time around Oghren, Commander! Come, I'll walk you back to Anna's room as I believe you were heading there and you can tell me about us about these bad news tomorrow."

Neria smiled as she heard Nathaniel utter the word "us". They had truly become "us", despite the rocky start ten years ago. She had recently been named Arlessa of the Amaranthine and her first move was to gather yet another band of merry men to chase darkspawn across Ferelden. Sometimes she wondered how it would have been to have a group made of sturdy, well trained soldiers? Anders would have probably said it would be too boring for words. As she started moving again, followed closely by Nathaniel she sighed and couldn't help but tell the news she learned from the scout:

"It was Anders actually…" she started, but stopped when Nate snorted and huffed:

"It's always, Anders!" She glanced at him strangely and the other warden shrugged and nodded, adding: "Whenever something went wrong before it was always his fault."

"It's not…" Neria tried to deny the fact, but found no arguments in Anders's defense. "You're right. Anyway this  
>time is not like the time when he tricked Oghren into drinking all the Orlesian wine in our cellars then blamed it on my mabari. This time is serious… for Andraste's sake he blew up the Kirkwall Chantry!"<p>

"Well… that is a bit extreme! Even for him!" Nathaniel coughed and stopped in front of a tall mahogany door ornate with all sorts of Dalish symbols, courtesy of Velanna.

"All over Thedas the Circle is rebelling against the templars and the Chantry leaving only chaos and blood in  
>their path. Even the Divine is having a rough time in Orlais! This is serious!"<p>

"Why should it concern us? Grey Wardens have always been neutral. Thus we can gather the necessary troops whenever a Blight appears. Surely they cannot expect us to get involved!"

Neria gave him a long pointed look and the man sighed adding:

"With you around anything is possible. You attract danger and weird people like a magnet. You're right we should prepare, just in case." He opened the door for her and gave the elf woman a small nudge inside. Neria's lips twitched in a smile and turned to him one last time before entering the room.

"Nate get the day off tomorrow. Go see Delilah and her children. Tell Oghren to go see Felsi, Sigrun to go have a walk outside and Velanna to do whatever she does when she is bored. I think we may be facing our last days of freedom for some time now."

"Yes,Commander!"

He gently shut the door behind her and turned around heading towards his own room. It seemed only yesterday the Commander returned to them after having sought for something, a part of her past, but in fact five years have passed, years that had been filled with mundane fights and occasional darkspawn attacks, nothing like they had face when she first became Commander of the Grey. Now, it seemed that their  
>peaceful days were over.<p>

Inside the room, Neria walked to the double bed occupying most of the room and gazed softly upon the child  
>sleeping in it. The child had long, sand blonde hair spread on her pillow like a hallo; she was clutching her pillow tightly in her arms all wrapped in her sky blue blanket. Next to her a similar blanket, painted crimson red looked too inviting to Neria; she simply laid next to the child, still dressed in her casual attire and easily drifted to sleep.<p> 


	2. The Commander and the Champion

_**A/N Hey everyone! Here is chapter two of my story. As usual I do not own anything, all these wonderful character are property of Bioware, I'm just stealing them for a moment.**_

* * *

><p>Seraphina Hawke glanced sadly at her companions as they walked across the fields of Ferelden on their way to Vigil's Keep. They were all tired, one can see it in the bags under their eyes and their pale faces. After the fight that ensured at Kirkwall they fled the city on Isabela's newly acquired ship and didn't look back for one single moment.<p>

Hawke was sad to leave the city that had been her home for ten years, but understood that nothing else awaited her there except death. Her mother and sister were long gone, her brother Carver was somewhere with the Grey Wardens and even her uncle Gamlen decided to leave the city to its own devices and move to Antiva. Nothing was left in Kirkwall for Hawke and her friends.

On their first night on the ship, the Champion of Kirkwall gathered all candles she could find and lit them in the memory of those who died in an unjust and useless war. She remembered the mages that were pushed over the edge by the templars, but also the templars who had been good, but had no choice than to follow Meredith. She lit candles in memory of Keeper Marethani and the fallen elves, in memory of the sisters who died in the Chantry and in memory of her own family. As she lit candle after candle despite Isabela's protests that the ship will catch fire she wept and wept remembering all the happy plans she had made before the accursed Blight came upon their heads and tore all notions of freedom and happiness from her soul.

Now, a week later, their ship lay abandoned near the city of Amaranthine while they made their way on foot to Vigil's Keep tired and hungry, with low morals and even lower expectations. Anders especially looked hell bent to turn tails and flee with each passing moment. Hawke knew that only his love and devotement for her kept him close as he was forced to come closer and closer to the place that turned him in the direction of Kirkwall in the first place.

"Do we really have to do this?" Anders asked for the tenth time that day. "She might not even be there. When I left there was this Orlesian witch harping on everyone."

Hawke sighed and did not even bother answering. She didn't feel comfortable relying on the help of an almost legendary figure who may or may not help her. A figure clouded in mystery about whom some said that she was ten feet tall and shoots lightning through her eyes. She knew that wasn't true, but Hawke was still anxious about the upcoming meeting.

"Told ya before Blondie," Varric piped in, "my sources are certain that the Warden Commander is someone called Neria Surana and according to you that is her name. Having second thoughts?" The dwarf smirked upon seeing the mage's worried look.

"Of course I'm having bloody second thoughts! I left without turning back! I never contacted her and allowed her to think I'm dead! Then I bloody met Nathaniel Howe in the Deep Roads and surely she knows I'm alive and what I did! And she's my Commander! And I basically deserted!" He turned his eyes to the ground and sighed adding in a less worried voice "She was also my friend and I let her down."

"Come now, Blondie, I'm sure she'll forgive you!" Varric added and stepped a bit forward leaving Hawke and Anders in the rear. The woman gazed at him softly, her pale, blue eyes sparkling with pity and care.

"It'll be ok, Anders!"

They walked a few moments in silence until they reached the end of the hill. Vigil's Keep appeared in front of them, glittering in the sun, the banners of the Grey Wardens fluttering in the wind. Anders smiled to himself seeing the Keep returned to its former state.

"No point delaying the inevitable," he sighed "Let's go and meet her."

"Is it wise to ask the help of another mage?" Fenris asked with disdain in his voice. "So far they brought us naught, but trouble."

"We don't have many choices available, Fenris." Hawke sighed and moved forward."We can't be picky when presented with a situation like ours."

"A situation the mage brought upon us." The elf pointed out, but did not continue further. It was already bad enough he had to travel with an abomination and a maleficar, but to risk even more and ask the help of another mage was too much even for him.

As they got closer to the gates they spotted Grey Wardens guarding them and patrols inside the keep. Nobody looked prepared to stop them so they passed the gates and walked forward towards the entrance of the citadel. A young woman in her thirties at most was positioned next to the gate looking incredibly comfortable in her role.

"Greetings, ser! Who are you and what business do you have in the Keep?" the woman raised a gloved hand and her eyes widened a little upon seeing Anders, but she decided to say nothing.

"I am Sera Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall! I seek an audience with the Commander of the Grey!"

"Welcome, ser Hawke! We have been expecting you!" Hawke rose an eyebrow in surprise, but decided not to comment. "I am Sergeant Maverlies. The Arlessa is in the city of Amaranthine, but Senior Warden Howe will attend to you until she arrives."

"Looks like you'll have to worry a little longer, mage." Isabela smirked to herself as the party followed Maverlies down a long corridor.

"Thanks for reminding me, pirate!" The apostate replied in a dry tone as he trudged forward to the farther end of the corridor. Maverlies stopped in front of a deep red chestnut door and knocked twice. The door sprung open and Nathaniel Howe towered in the doorstep. He scowled darkly upon seeing Anders, but stepped to the left and allowed the party to move inside.

As soon as Hawke stepped in the room she could clearly notice it was not an office, rather a meeting chamber of some sorts. A huge, oval table stood in the middle surrounded by chairs on all sides. Nathaniel allowed them to take a seat and spoke:

"Welcome to Vigil's Keep!" glancing at some of those he had not yet encountered in the Deep Roads he added "I am Senior Warden, Nathaniel Howe. The Commander is away with business, but should arrive shortly. Until then I will ask a servant to bring you some food." He turned around, as if to leave, walked a few steps, then spoke to Anders with a surprisingly pitiful voice. "Just for the record, Anders, she'll be as furious as an Archdemon when she sees you. Good luck!" Nathaniel stepped outside and the door rang loudly behind him.

Anders paled and stepped up as if dashing for an escape any moment now. Varric glanced at him weirdly and placed a strong hand on his shoulder, putting him back in his place.

"Come on, Blondie, surely she can't be that bad!" the dwarf mused out loud.

"No, she's not. She's worse than anything you can imagine when she's angry! The woman killed a bloody Archdemon, isn't that enough proof for you?"

"Anders," Merill piped in with her sweet and calm voice "you're her friend. Surely you don't have to worry that much!"

"Oh, she won't kill me." Anders said morosely "She's just not gonna let me forget anytime soon that I was an ass and didn't keep in touch with her after I ran away. And she's probably going to kick my butt from her to Amaranthine!"

"See then, nothing to worry about." The blood mage concluded giddily and smiled at him.

A few minutes later, the food arrived and they were left to their own devices as Nathaniel was called away and didn't have time to return. More than two hours passed until the doors of the meeting chamber opened and a petite elf woman, with short, red hair and emerald eyes entered. She wasn't a rare beauty, but she held a certain charm and air of mystery around herself that had not receded with age. Her hands were marred with burn and bruises, clear signs of a life full of struggle and hardship. Hawke could easily see in the woman that stood in front of her, the one who assembled a band of allies then marched through a Blighted land to assemble and army and fight the Archdemon; despite being an elf, she held an air of confidence around her, head left high as if daring anyone to comment something of her.

The Warden turned her gaze to Anders and for a moment there was a look of relief and utter joy, before her eyes turned dark with anger and pointed to the door behind her:

"Out!" she said coldly and Anders looked startled at her.

"But, Commander!"

"Don't Commander me, Warden!" She was using his old title to show that he was still a Warden, she was still his Commander and she still held authority over him. "You will leave this room, remain outside the door and wait, understood?"

"Yes, Commander!" He got up with a sad sigh and left the room in silence, closing the door behind him.

"I am sorry for that. I promise I will not hurt him too much when this is over, but I have to talk some sense in that stubborn head of his. We all thought he was dead! I am Commander Neria Surana," she turned her head towards Hawke and nodded "You must be Hawke. King Alistair spoke highly of you."

"I… I am glad to hear that, Commander!"

"Please, I'm Commander only to the Grey Wardens and the guard from the Keep. Call me Neria or even Surana, if it's easier for you." She gazed at every member of Hawke's party and stopped startled upon seeing Isabela. Blushing furiously, she said in a wanna-be stern voice:

"That never happened!" Hawke and the others watched in confusion as Isabela started laughing merrily.

"Keep telling yourself that, luv!"

"Oghren got me drunk! And Zevran is the guilty one!" she sat down next to Merill and glared at Isabela.

"Not one word!" Neria added.

"My lips are sealed, dear!"

"Now that everything is out of the way I wish to hear what brought you here. My fellow Wardens already brought news of what happened in Kirkwall, but I want to hear your side of the story. I was led to believe that although Anders is the immediate cause of the uprising, there have been stirrings for a long time now. There also has been news that both the Knight-Commander and the Senior Enchanter have both been pushed over the edge."

"That is putting it mildly, Commander!" Varric interfered "The Knight-Commander was almost possessed by a statue my fool of a brother found in the Deep Roads and the mage turned to blood magic."

Surana closed her eyes sadly. There had been many times during the Blight when she had toyed with the thought. It would have been so easy, to get more power, to stop the Blight faster, yet she never gave up and fought the temptation. But she partially understood the others…

"I had not known these facts. I'm eagerly waiting to hear more, but perhaps the story is too long and you are weary. I have been a poor host and it is already quite late. I will have rooms prepared for you and for Anders providing he's still in once piece after I deal with him."

Neria was intrigued by Hawke and by the company she kept. The woman was strong and had a charisma that clearly drew others to her. She was always on her guard, her blue eyes calculating everything with every glance. Her friends, that much was clear, would die for her is she asked them to. But she never would as she valued their safely more than anything. Otherwise she would have never taken refuge in Fereldan, rather joined the battle.

"I have one more thing I wish you ask of you, Hawke!" Neria smiled kindly "As I have been such a poor host until now, I would really wish to be properly introduced to your friends."


	3. Wayward Warden

**_**A/N Well here is another chapter...As usual I do not own anything and constructive criticism is always appreciated. Enjoy!**_**

* * *

><p>Hawke gazed at her party wondering briefly how to introduce them without putting them in danger. After all her company was far from normal: an apostate, a blood mage, a runaway slave, a pirate and she didn't even have to finish the list. Varric was the one who first broke the ice, raising to his feet and bowing:<p>

"Varric Tethras, at your service, Commander!"

"A pleasure to meet you, Ser Tethras. You will find some of your kind among our ranks, even though you might wish you guard your ale from at least one of them." Neria smiled sweetly and waited patiently for the others to introduce themselves.

"My name is Merril, Commander." The elf gazed with her large expressive eyes as if waiting a comment from Neria.

"You are Dalish, right? And a mage?"

"Yes, commander."

"We owe much to the Dalish for their assistance during the Blight. Your kin fought bravely against the darkspawn and the Archdemon. Their sacrifice will never be forgotten."

"Thank you, Commander." Merill sat back down, her eyes a little moist even though the one who had made the promise was one of her own.

"You know me well, right?" Isabela winked and Neria blushed again trying to look intimidating at the same time. It utterly failed.

Aveline and her husband Donnic presented themselves in the brusque manner of the guards. Hawke interfered on their behalf and added that Aveline was the former Captain of the Guards and that she was originally Ferelden such as herself.

"This is Fenris," Hawke added, presenting the last member of her group "He comes from the Tevintar Imperium." Fenris simply glowered at the Warden and said nothing; Neria decided now it was neither the time nor the place to find out what grudge the elf had against her or perhaps mages as a whole.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. You certainly keep interesting company, Hawke, but I believe you will think the same about me after you see my friends. Come now, I believe we left poor Anders waiting long enough. If you wish to make sure your friend will be unharmed you may follow me to the training grounds, if not, Senior Warden Howe will take you to your rooms."

"We'll join you, though for various reasons." Hawke glanced at Fenris and saw the wild content in his eyes at the idea that Anders will probably get his ass kicked. Isabela was only mildly curious, while Aveline and Donnic were anxious to see exactly what kind of punishment the Wardens used.

As soon as the door opened, Anders who had been, until then, leaning to the wall, rose to his feet and looked slightly frightened at his former Commander. The elf mage paid him no attention and simply walked forward past him. Only when she had her back turned on him, she growled:

"You! Me! Training grounds! Now!" She needed him to be unable to see her so that her eyes wouldn't give away the relief she still felt that he was alive and had made it to the Keep unharmed. Anders stammered a few words and looked at Hawke for help, but she simply shrugged and walked in line with the Commander.

The training fields were empty as it was nearly dusk. Most of the Wardens were inside enjoying their meals; Maverlais was still guarding the gates to the citadel and was talking to Nathaniel on some matter. When the two saw the schooled thundering look on their Commander's face they quickly followed her to the training grounds.

Surana walked first in the circle; she gazed expectedly at Anders waiting for him to talk. When she saw he had no intention at doing so she glowered and spoke in a cold voice:

"Come now, Anders! Surely you have much to say before I make mabari food out of you."

"What could I say? You were always good at stating the obvious! And after all why should I feel guilty for not keeping in touch, it was you who gave up on us?"

"I did what?" Neria screamed in outrage, but saw on his face that he considered that to be the truth. "Bloody harpy!" she raged and shot a fireball in outrage at the nearest tree."That was what she said? That I abandoned you? And you were naïve enough to believe her, weren't you Anders. Why didn't you ask Nate or Oghren?"

"I couldn't! She kept that Templar on my back night and day, didn't even allow me to go to the privy by myself!" His gaze softened and he sighed "I see I was played for a fool. What actually happened?"

"They kicked me out!" Neria said simply.

"Pardon?" Anders sputtered in outrage.

"The Warden from Orlais wrote "concerned letters" to the First Warden as to how it was improper for me to be Commander when I had only been a Warden for a year and a half. Never mind I killed an Archdemon and dealt with that mess with the Architect! In addition they said that my title as Arlessa interfered with the neutrality of the Grey Wardens and I should go to Denerim as my title dictates and be part of the court."

"And he actually believed that rubbish?" Anders raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Quite frankly, yes! You were away on patrol when she came, probably at that time you merged with Justice. That harpy from Orlais came with a letter from the First Warden himself stating I was to go to Denerim and serve as the link to the court there. It was a nice way of saying you're fired. I'm sorry to say that I didn't fight back, but I had some unfinished business to take care of and I used the opportunity. I thought she would be good for the Wardes, a nice change. When I came back three years later after tracking down what I had to track down, my guards were almost all useless imbeciles, Maverlais had been sent to Denerim, Oghren had gone back to drinking and Nate was one step away from killing her. So I did what I had to do…"

"Which was?" the mage asked.

"Kicked her butt out of my Keep with her whole contingent of Wardens and told her to come back with the First Warden himself if she didn't like it. Then I sent letters to the First Warden explaining the situation. As you can see I'm still here." She frowned at him and added "You should have known better than to believe her. But that was then, this is now and you can thank the Maker I'm not sending you to the dungeons at this very moment. " Neria rose her staff and adopted her battle position waiting for Anders to do the same. Sighing reluctantly the mage did so and in the blink of an eye they started casting at each other.

Hawke watched closely, seeing a side of Anders she rarely saw before. Usually he favored healing spells and preferred to stand guard, rarely using offensive spells. Now as he fought with Neria he used mainly ice spells cast at a rate Hawke had never seen before. The Commander herself was just as fast and it looked like they were both aided by something; while it was clear Justice aided Anders, the force behind Neria's fire spells also had to come from somewhere, yet Hawke did not know the source. Still they couldn't go at it forever as their mana was soon spent and they had no lyrium potions with them. After casting her last spell, Neria took out a pair of daggers and stood facing Anders.

"Come now, Anders, I vividly remember teaching you to wield them so you wouldn't be in danger in battle should you find yourself without lyrium potions. It was my first lesson wasn't it?" Neria taunted as she held her position.

"Indeed it was, Commander." The mage said reluctantly and grabbed a pair of daggers hidden in his boots. Then the dance continued as they preyed and circled each other, occasionally landing blows when it was possible.

While everyone stood transfixed watching the scene, no one noticed a small, blonde haired child descend the stairs of the Keep and walk towards the training ground. She stood still a moment glancing at the fighting figures and at the ones watching, then marched to the silver haired elf who didn't seem to have noticed her. She was too small and could not see properly in the training grounds so she tugged on the elf's armor trying to catch his attention.

Fenris glanced to the ground where a small, blonde haired child stood attached to his armor, tugging continuously. What was a child doing in a Grey Warden compound, he wondered while noticing the child grew more and more impatient.

"Up!" The girl said simply raising her arms.

Nine years ago, Fenris would have simply walked away glaring all the time. Now he couldn't do so, therefore he tried to make her leave, by pushing her away. The child remained stubbornly attached to his armor and cried again.

"Up!" she said "UP!UP!UP!"

Growling in frustration, the elf snapped: "What do you want from me?" The child appeared unfazed as she pointed to the training grounds and said again:

"I want up. I wanna see!"

Fenris glanced at his companions, but none of them was paying attention to their surroundings. Growling in frustration he took the kid in his arms and rose her to the wooden fence surrounding the field, while keeping a firm hold on her in order not to fall.

"I'm Anna! I'm very nearly five! You're nice!"

The child's babbling baffled Fenris to no end as he wondered why the child would come at him and not the others. And what was she even doing there? He hoped the two mages would end their fight soon and relieve him of the unwanted cargo.


	4. Assassins in the night

_**A/N And here is chapter III. More details will be revealed and there will be another character appearance. As usual I do not own anything, all belongs to Bioware.**_

* * *

><p>The fight lasted only a couple more minutes. Neria's wound was still troubling her, although she did not want to admit it so when the pain was bad enough she called it quits and sheeted her daggers. She frowned at Anders as if waiting for a reply from the mage.<p>

"Satisfied now, Commander?" Anders asked grinning while gathering his staff from the ground. Apparently this was not the right thing to ask considering the fact that Neria's eyes flashed with annoyance and with the little mana she had left Anders was blasted directly in a mud pool.

"Now I'm satisfied." She huffed and stalked from the field. Neria's eyes widened in surprise when she saw Anna chattering happily while standing on the wooden fence, held by a mad and scowling Fenris. Blushing madly the mage ran to the fence and grabbed the little girl, putting her on the ground.

"Anna!" she scolded the child "Why aren't you with Velanna? What have I told you about bugging people?"

"But, mama!" the child cried out and several pairs of eyes turned shocked glances in Neria's direction. "I was bored. Why were you trying to kill the man in a skirt? Did he do something bad? Why is he all covered in mud now?"

"Anna!" Neria groaned and sighed "I was not trying to kill him, we were just sparring."

"But mama, you had that look, the way you look at the other men in skirts. The grey ones." The child stated clearly, trying to imitate a grownup. Varric and Isabela couldn't hold their laughter and cracked up, while Hawke was clearly trying to hide a smile.

"Anna, go find Uncle Oghren, tell him dinner is served." She would have said anything to prevent further embarrassment from the little girl. The child skipped away happily, trying to find her uncle and call him to dinner.

Once he was certain that Anna was not in sight, Nathaniel approached the Commander and grabbed her forearm gently. The elf hissed in pain and threw him a withering glare.

"Healer's quarters, now!" the man said and Neria looked like she wanted to argue. However she gave up and with another glare stalked towards the healer's quarters. Meanwhile Anders was trying to get up from his mud bath while trying to look as dignified as possible. He glanced with a bit of worry in his eyes in the direction of the Commander then approached his friends.

"What happened?" Anders asked and received confused glances from everyone except Nathaniel. The dark haired man looked thorn between saying something and remaining silent so he merely signaled them to follow him and led them to their quarters.

"I see you are still as morose, as usual, dear Nathanial." Anders mused "What did you tell the Commander that you made her stalk like a fury out of the courtyard."

"I cannot see how any of this is your business, Anders." Nate replied coldly and marched forward.

"What I wanna know," Isabela mused with excitement "is whether the little girl really is Neria's or not. And who is the father?"

Nathaniel gazed long at Isabela before stopping before a pair of oak doors. He remembered her from Neria's tales of the Blight and he knew there was some untold business between the two that somehow involved the elf, Zevran.

"You knew her from before, Isabela," Nate said, not actually responding to the question "What do you think." Then diverting the attention from the question he said simply "These are your rooms. The Commander hopes they are suitable for the time being. Dinner will be served shortly in the dinning quarters. They are down the corridor to the left. "

"Of course." Hawke interfered opening the doors "Thank you, Senior Warden Howe."

The two rooms were spacious enough for Hawke's party to settle in, but so many question were left unanswered than no one actually wanted to do anything, but talk.

"Do you think the little one really is the Commander's child?" Merill asked in her sweet tone glancing mostly at Isabela who seemed the most likely one to hold some answers.

"I dunno, kitten." The pirate shrugged throwing herself on a bed. "When I first met Neria she was this shy little thing that was followed by a band of loons while trying to stop a Blight. It didn't appear to me as if she held someone in her heart at that moment, but who knows?"

"If Anna's the Commander's daughter, then there's only one man who can be the child's father as far as I know." Anders stepped in "But I will say no more as it is not my place. However Fenris looked pretty comfortable with the child in his arms." The mage smirked like a cat who swallowed a fat mouse.

"So speaks the abomination who kissed the mud." The elf's eyes flashed with annoyance.

"How was the Commander when she was in the tower, Anders?" asked Varric. "I'm dying for a new story."

"It would be interesting to hear." Aveline added softly. "She seems very in control now."

"She was not always so." Anders started "When we were in the tower, life was pretty hard for her. She was an elf and despite the whole 'we're the same' thing, elves are usually outcasts in the tower. Sure they have each other, but she didn't even have that. She was too shy to try and make friends and usually one would find her with her nose in a book. The only one she ever befriended was Jowan and he turned out to be a blood mage."

"Typical!" Fenris snorted.

"Anyway," Anders glared and continued "I didn't know her that well when we were in the tower. When I met her next and she conscripted me she was much changed. There was a fire in her eyes and she seemed totally in control. She always fought alongside everyone else and didn't hide behind her title."

The conversation died out and Hawke decided it was high time they went to have dinner. Her party didn't mingle that much, exceptions making Aveline and Donnic who joined the other guards and Varric who decided to get to know the two other dwarfs, Oghren and Sigrun. They were confused when they saw that Neria did not join them in the dining hall and Anna was nowhere to be seen as well. Merill was quite and stood by herself until she saw another Dalish elf and eventually curiosity got the better of her and she went to chat. Velanna was not that glad…

Hours later, when the most of the residents of the Keep were asleep, a single candle still flickered in the Commander's office. Neria stood with her head bend over several parchments, trying to will away the massive headache she had. She knew help was expected of her and she had no idea how to do that without interfering in the neutrality of the wardens. As tired as she was, Neria almost did not hear the soft shuttle that echoed outside her room. For a moment she thought Zevran had returned as only he was accompanied by that shuffle, but she cast away the thought as unlikely. Zevran was still in Antiva… Then what exactly was happening? Grasping her staff in one hand and a small dagger in the other she pushed the doors open and walked on the dim lit corridor. A shadow moved at the corner of her eye and she only had the time to see the glint of silver before ducking and sending an ice cone in the direction. A grunt was the only thing that escaped the man's lips before turning into an ice block.

"Anna!" Neria gasped in fear and ran down the corridor to her daughter's room. On her way she decided the only way to warn the other Wardens was to start a big ruckus so she sent a fire ball into a suit of armor, knocking it to the ground with a huge bang.

"Neria!" she heard Nathaniel's voice as he rushed down the corridor.

"Assassins, Nate!" Apparently at the exact moment Nathaniel had found out himself as he sent a dagger straight in the chest of an attacker. Neria quickly opened the lock on her daughter's door and sighed in relief seeing her still blissfully asleep. She gathered the child in her arms and opened a secret wall that reveal a hidden chamber and put the child inside. Making sure the room was shut properly she ran back to the commotion and saw Hawke and her friends fighting off more attackers.

"Commander, where 're the sodding nug humpers coming from?" Oghren asked from her left as his giant axe cut one of the assassins down.

"Damned if I know, Oghren." She shouted and fireballed another man. Their numbers seemed to be drawing to an end. Just as she believed everything was ok, Neria felt a dagger pressed to her neck and a man breathing down her back.

"Compliments from the Crows, Warden-Commander!" His voice held a thick Antivan accent and Neria was unsure whether she would be able to cast fast enough in order to prevent having her throat cut open. Just as she prepared to blast the man away, the assassin gave strangled snort and fell down a neck stuck in his back.

"Ah, cara mia, it appears that one way or another you still get to deal with the Crows. And so many of them, I truly am impressed." This Antivan accent she knew well and Neria whirled around grinning and dashed to a sprint to hug to blonde haired elf that somehow appeared once again on time.

"Zevran!"


	5. A Warden's thoughts

_**A/N Thank you for your lovely reviews. I am glad you like the story and I shall try to keep everyone as in character as possible. This chapter and the next will be somewhat Neria and Hawke centric focusing on the thoughts and plans of each characters, plus the interactions with the others. This chapter was written late at night so I'm sorry for any mistakes I made. As usual Bioware pwns and I do not own anything.**_

* * *

><p>The Warden's face showed a look of pure, unshielded joy as she ran towards the blonde elf and hugged him with all her might. He laughed in delight and twirled her around, then carefully settled her back on her feet.<p>

"My dear Warden it appears you get in all sorts of trouble when I'm not around." The former Crow laughed merrily. "What have you done to ire the Crows so? And more importantly why didn't you invite me?"

"I must admit I'm at loss for words, Zev. I haven't meddled in the affairs of the Crows lately."

"Ah, but it appears they meddled in yours, no?" His visage turned a bit worried for a moment, but he played the emotion with a smile. "Now where is that sweet bambina of yours?"

"In the safe room you made for her. Fast asleep… surely you did not expect her to be awake in the middle of the night?"

"Of course not, cara mia. I simply wish to tell her I brought her a present from Orlais." The elf looked smug as if he was trying to compete with something or someone. "The bard is behind me again."

"Oh, Zev, you and your competition with Leliana. You spoil that child too much." Neria then turned towards Hawke and her friends with an repentant face. "I am sorry you were caught in all of this. I must admit I have no idea what triggered it. Frankly I was expecting someone to attack you, but I never expected a sneak attack in the Keep."

"No worries, Commander," Varric interfered "we were getting a little rusty as it is. It's good to have some assassins to wipe the ground with. "

"Thank you for understanding and once again I apologize. I believe it is now safe to return to your quarters. Zevran you know where your room is"

As soon as everyone turned around and started returning to their quarters, Neria sighed deeply and leaned on the wall, wobbling slightly on her feet. She rose her left sleeve up to her elbow and revealed a thoroughly blood stained bandage. The wound was already four days old, but despite the fact that the poison had been drained it wouldn't close. She tried a healing spell of her own, but those particular spells where never her strong point and her spell failed. She missed Wynne… good, old Wynne that was like a mother to her and had healed her every scratch and bruise. Wynne that had helped her deliver Anna… Wynne whose faithful spirit companion had lost its strength four years ago as they both traveled to the Fade one last time. She was too tired to move, too confused to make sense of her jumbled thoughts and too wary of this constant fighting. She simply wanted to rest… she slowly sat on the hard, granite floor and hugged her knees closely to herself, a habit she had developed in the Tower.

"Neria?" a concerned voice rang somewhere around her, and she turned blurry eyes to the figure. Anders appeared in front of her and knelt to the ground looking at her in concern. "Are you ok?"

She shook her head no and sighed. Anders had always been a good healer, almost as good as Wynne, maybe he knew what was wrong with that blasted wound and what made her fell so fatigue all the time. She showed him the blood stained bandage and spoke:

"It was poisoned. The healers managed to drain the poison out, but it won't close." Her vision was turning kind of blurry again as it had the past days whenever she felt tired. She could barely make the outline of Anders's face and his words came as if from far away.

"You have some really incompetent healers here." The mage scowled while removing the bandage and looking at the wound. It was an angry red color, blood still oozing out of it. "Of course the blood won't clot. The poison was made especially for that. It was used frequently in Kirkwall and leaves residues even if drained out." A soft, yellow light engulfed his hands as he brought them over the wound and wield it to close for a while. "That'll do for now. You'll also need to drink a herb tea, you hear me, Neria?"

The elf bobbled her head softly, but barely understood his words. She was too tired, she wanted to sleep. Neria felt someone pick her up gently and guide her across the corridor towards her office. The same person laid her on the bed and as soon as she touched the pillow she was fast asleep.

The next day everyone woke up later than usual and the morning meal was a loud affair. The wardens were all talking between themselves who would have the courage to send assassins after their Commander, the guards were wondering how the attackers had made it inside and most of Hawke's friends were slowly leaving their table to start mingling. Isabela as expected left her friends to share tales with Zevran and Anders was nowhere to be seen. That left Hawke and Fenris alone at the table eating by themselves.

"Why do you think the mage was attacked?" Fenris asked. He still couldn't convince himself to see the elf as anything else, but another mage despite the fact that she had provided them with shelter and sent Anders crashing in a puddle of mud. "The Grey Wardens have always been neutral. Though it is queer that the Warden is an Arlessa. They should not be involved in politics. "

"I asked Anders the same," Hawke admitted "After the Blight was over there were only two Wardens in Ferelden and after so many years of Orlesian occupation they were not too keen on bringing Orlesian Wardens to strengthen their ranks. As the slayer of the Archdemon, Neria was granted the title of Warden Commander and King Alistair gave her Amaranthine in order to rebuilt the ranks of the Wardens. But since Amaranthine is an arling it needed and Arlessa and she was the best one for the post."

"I understand. It still does nothing to explain why they were after her."

"Probably because she is a mage, an elf and a Grey Warden that wields so much power. Without her things would get rather complicated."

"Perhaps," the elf admitted reluctantly.

The person in question was nowhere to be seen during the meal. However, a certain blonde haired minx decided to make her presence known. She carefully made her way around the many tables in the dining hall searching for a certain person. Once she spotted the familiar white hair and silver markings she marched towards him with determination and silently crept on the bench where he was standing. Happy that he hadn't noticed her, Anna softly approached him till she was close enough to climb in his lap.

"What?" Fenris growled in frustration when he noticed the child. "Please remove yourself from my lap." He glowered menacingly at the child, but she stubbornly refused.

"No. I like you. Be Anna's friend!" The little girl demanded loudly and Hawke smirked in amusement.

"Go away." The elf tried again, yet with less determination. That only earned him a pair of sad, puppy eyes gazing at him with tears brimming at their corners. Deciding it was better for him if the mage did not believe he was antagonizing her daughter he growled a, "Fine. You can stay!"

Anna beamed at him with happiness and hugged Fenris, before starting to chat merrily about the new doll her Uncle Zevran had brought her. The sour look on the elf's face could have made all the milk in Thedas go bad.

At one moment, Anna stopped her chatter and appeared in deep thought. She looked at Hawke with her bright green eyes and appeared very proud of herself when she remembered something.

"You lady Hawke? Mama wants to talk later. Now she and Uncle Zevran talk adult talk." Anna looked in Oghren's direction and saw him getting up therefore she decided to follow him. "Me go to Uncle Oghren. Bye!"

"Finally!" Fenris growled and Hawke couldn't help it anymore. She started laughing loudly at the annoyed look on her friend's face.

Several hours later the elf was walking by himself on the corridors of the Keep. He was as morose as ever, partially because he hated being confined in once place after years of slavery and partially because he wasn't all that excited to receive a mage's help. In his eyes the mage was dangerous; should she ever fall prey to a demon there was no knowing what chaos she would ensure.

As walked he managed to encounter the very same person he was thinking about. She was dressed in an emerald green robe, with silver lining carefully embroiled on its sides. The mage was looking outside the window, deep in thought, yet she seemed more calm and serene than usual. Before she looked as if the weight of the entire Thedas had falled on her shoulders and somehow she had to handle it by herself.

Hearing his approach, Neria turned around and nodded her head in greeting.

"I hope you enjoy your walk, Fenris." She stated as neutrally as possible.

"I am. I would enjoy it even more if your daughter was not so keen on making me her friend. Why she believes I am a suitable friend for her I do not know."

"It is usually the children who see most truthfully in one person's soul. Anna does not like many people and if she chose you she must have had a reason."

"I am an escaped slave from Tevintar. My hands are soaked with the blood of many fallen foes. Whatever your child thinks she sees, she is wrong."

"The same can be said about me. Do you believe a Blight can be stopped with friendly chats? I killed many and my hands are just as bloodied as yours. What matters is that the blood is not that of innocents. But if it bothers you I shall ask her to stop."

"It would be most appreciated, Warden."

Neria glanced at the elf shortly, not letting her eyes linger too much on his markings or his heavy armor. It was clear he had been running from something or still was, but it was not her place to ask such things.

"You remind me of the Qunari!" Neria said carefully, but did not expect his startled look. "I had a friend once, a Qunari. I never knew his name, but he was a Sten of the Beresaad. You resemble him greatly as he was when we first met. "

"And how was he exactly?" Fenris asked in a slightly harsh tone.

"Stern, proud, arrogant. He believed only he held the real truth. I was a mage, a danger to everyone and a woman who should not be leading an army, but rather stay home and craft. We had many fights along the road, but in the end he managed to see what I was trying to accomplish. "

"A Qunari cannot be persuaded to stop following the Qun." Fenris bristled.

"Of course not. It would be against their nature." Neria smiled sadly "What I mean is that in the end he stopped seeing me as a mage woman and saw me simply as a Warden. We grew to respect each other and accept each other's point of view. I truly considered him a friend. I'm not sure what he thought of me, but he called me Kadan. I never really asked what that meant."

Fenris eyed the Warden with amazement. It came to no surprise to him when Hawke had been called basalit an by the Arishok, for she truly handled everything relating to the Qun in a manner worthy of the leader's respect. However he was surprised to learn that the warden had met a Qunari who deemed her worthy of the title Kadan.

"It means…" Fenris started "it has not true meaning in our language. It can mean friend or brother, but the closest translation would be where the heart lies."

"Thank you, Fenris." She knew she was doing a good thing by talking about Sten and she wondered how deep where the roots that the elf shared with the Qunari. In a way she had learned much about Fenris, the only one who was still a mystery to her. The others were easy to read, even Hawke, but he was an enigma and she keep his hatred of magic must come from somewhere. Perhaps the very same markings etched in his skin…

"I must take my leave," Neria finally spoke "Hawke must be waiting for me by now. I shall tell my daughter to stop pestering you."

As he watched her leave, Fenris wanted to call out and tell her not to tell the child anything. Some part of him remembered a time when he was a child and he was happy, but the bitter, angry side of him took over and he turned around walking in the opposite direction holding more questions than answers.


	6. A Champion's plans

_**A/N: This chapter will be seen mostly throught Hawke's eyes. I am sorry if I seem to be ignoring other characters like Sigrun, Velanna or Aveline, but I feel that at this point of the story they would only prove to be a liability rather than actually bring something new to the plot. I promise they will appear more in later chapter. As usual Bioware owns hate me at the moment, none of those I regularly use work so I'm sorry again for any mistakes. I'll try to find a beta in the near by future.**_

* * *

><p>Hawke was waiting patiently, with Anders next to her, for the arrival of the Commander. The woman was still unsure what to think of the elf; she had treated them kindly so far and had made no biting remarks regarding the whole affair in Kirkwall, but how long will that last? Now that everything would finally be out in the open, would the Fereldan warden still support them? She was a mage, that was true, a mage that grew up in the Circle and most likely understood the mage's plight, but blowing up a Chantry and starting a war was no small thing.<p>

At last, the door opened and Neria walked inside. She looked less tired and happier than Hawke had ever seen her, yet there was something in her eyes, a calm, calculated look, that showed the following discussion would not be a cheerful one. Hawke felt insignificant in comparison to the other mage; for so long she had gotten used to have other people depending on her and now when she had to ask help it was hard to accept that she was no longer in charge. Her friends were already finding a place for themselves; Aveline and Donnic had decided to help the guards, Merril was pestering the other Dalish, Velanna for information on their shared history and even Varric was frequently seen in Sigrun's company as she shared tales regarding the Legion of the Dead. Hawke was starting to feel very much alone, as she had only felt when they first arrived in Kirkawall and her brother was cross with her.

"I wish to learn the whole truth regarding your tale." Neria asked as she sat down "From what I gathered from the reports I received without your help, Hawke, everything would have turned into a blood bath."

"It still did even with my interference. Everything started after the viscount died… The Knight-Commander Meredith took control of the city and the mage oppression grew stronger and stronger. I tried to stay out of it, help them find a new viscount for the peace to reign again, but Meredith was too much in control. At one moment things just blew up… " Hawke recalled "The Chantry blowing up only made it worse."

"I must thank you for the aid you gave to the mages of Kirkwall," the Warden said softly, "you could have easily chosen the other side and stopped the rebellion before it even started. In Ferelden the Circle is different, but that was due to a King who decided to make the country better for all and a mage slayer of the Archdemon. Mages in Kirkwall stood no chance with Meredith reigning there."

Hawke nodded simply… she had heard many tales about the Fereldan Circle and the changed King Alistair brought to it, but she never actually believed them, casting them aside as rumors. Now that she heard the confirmation, it felt good to know that somewhere mages where treated better.

"Things were as bad as they could be even before that blasted lyrium idol." Anders interfered "That object only made it worse."

"I haven't heard about this lyrium idol. Please, let me hear the whole story." Neria asked and the other two mages started everything from the beginning. The told of the family's run away, of Gamlen, the Deep Roads, the Arishok, everything. In the end, as she recalled every step of the past ten year, Hawke finally admitted to herself even if she had changed something the outcome wouldn't have been different. "

"I see. I believe now you require my help." Neria frowned slightly as she saw their nods. "You put me in a precarious situation. Grey Wardens have always been neutral, exception making Sophia Dryden and look where that brought her. If we were to interfere we would have to choose a side and that would mean losing credibility in case of a Blight. Either the mages or the Templars will refuse aiding us."

"And you will do nothing!" Anders cried out. "I thought you of all people would understand. Guess you prefer not to get your hands dirty," he spat angrily and rose to his feet.

"Sit down!" Neria thundered and in that moment Hawke truly saw the one who commanded the army gathered to fight the darkspawn. "It's your own rashness that brought forth the situation at hand so be quiet." Anders gulped and shot her an apologetic look, before sitting back down. "I did not say I will not help, neither did I say I will help. I only stated the situation was precarious. Tell me, Hawke, should the Circles be disbanded what would happen?"

"The mages would be free." The woman answered, but hesitated. "If the mages will be free, the Templars will no longer have any authority over them."

"Let me ask you this, isn't it the same in Tevintar? The mages are free, but most of them turn to blood magic because nobody truly shows them it is wrong to do so. The role of the Circle was first and foremost to be a school to train apprentices and teach them the basics of magic. The Dalish do not imprison their mages, true, but they teach them from an early age what can be done and what can't be done. Let's say you disband all Circles… what do you replace them with?"

The question was a fair one and Hawke quickly understood the logic behind it. Mages were feared especially because they risked becoming abominations… without someone to teach them that demons must be feared they would run rampant all across Thedas.

"I do not know. It is hard to say what would work… if you think about it the Chasind and the Dalish also train their mages, but they do not have gigantic suits of armor breathing down their necks. It's not the Circle that's the problem, rather the Templars."

"People fear demons. If they fear demons they also fear mages. But what most of them fail to understand is that everyone holds a demon in his or her soul. The only difference is that the mages see their demons while others don't." Neria stated glancing at Anders who looked cross.

"I don't understand what you mean." He muttered angrily.

"Don't you?" Neria smiled "Demons all represent different sins. But for each and every one of us this sin is already there waiting to poke his head out. I met a man during the Blight who killed an entire family because of greed. He had no magic in him, yet this demon grew and grew inside him until it turned him into a monster. That's what Templars do not understand… a mage can become a demon even without using blood magic or making a pact. The nature of one's soul can be changed even by a righteous act like bringing justice when it's not his place to do so and all he manages to do is unleash his vengeance on those who wronged him or others."

The last statement was so clearly aimed at Anders, that Hawke wasn't at all surprised to see him cast his eyes down in guilt. The woman had never stopped to think like that, but what the warden said was true. It didn't matter if one made a pact with a demon, the pain he could unleash should he chose to do so was just as great. Like Mother Petrice had done trying to make all other see the way of the Maker…

"But how do you explain that to the world?" Hawke asked "For so long they have feared mages and they grew to believe that templars were doing the right thing. The Chantry only aided in all this. Rather than teaching people that some had a gift and some didn't, the Chantry proclaimed left and right that mages were evil, that the darkspawn themselves were once mages punished by the Maker."

"You can't. They won't understand… what you need is a different system, one that actually works." Neria sighed "Or some way to prevent demons from striking deals with mages."

Suddenly a loud bang echoed from the courtyard and the three mages jumped to their feet in surprise. There was clearly something going on as the shuffle of feet rang loudly on the hallways as the Wardens marched outside.

Hawke wondered if they had finally been found out. It was clear that there were others on her tracks and she had half expected the assassins from last night to target them. Perhaps this time they were the targets. The woman glanced at Neria who was already marching towards the nearest window to see what was happening. As soon as she took in the sight before her eyes, her whole visage changed and she scowled deeply.

"Perhaps it is best if you remain here. I have a feeling this guys aren't here for pleasantries." Without uttering another word, she turned around and left the office leaving the other two mages alone. As they glanced outside they saw a small army of soldiers positioned outside the gates. Neria's advice truly had been a sound one when she stated they'd better remain inside.

Anders sat back on his chair, a sad look haunting his features. It seemed as if he was struggling to accept something, but on the other hand he didn't want to admit to being wrong. Hawke approached him slowly and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You never ran away from me before, Anders." The woman said in a soft tone. "What changed?"

"Everything changes. I don't even understand why you allowed me to walk free."

"You really don't?" she asked with sadness in her eyes. Even after all the stupid things he did, she still loved him and probably always would. She understood him, she did not fear him and she wanted to be next to him.

"I want to pretend I don't. Maybe then you'll understand I'm dangerous and leave me to my fate. I'm slowly losing control; sooner or later I'm not going to be Anders anymore. I'll hurt you, maybe even kill you if you stand in my path. I can't allow that to happen."

"Don't give up on us yet, Anders." Hawke walked to him slowly, draping her arms around his neck. "There must be a way to separate you and Justice. We'll find it, just don't give up."

"I should! I should simply push you away, break your heart, but make sure you're alive and not associated with me. But I can't! I'm a selfish man!" He softly pulled her closer to him and pressed a tender kiss on her lips. Perhaps there really was hope looming at the horizon.

Outside the citadel a very irate Nathaniel Howe was arguing loudly with a tall, blonde woman with a really bad, Orlesian accent. As soon as Neria saw who the newcomer was, she scowled darkly and marched to the gates, head held high showing who was in charge of Vigil's Keep.

"What is this commotion about?" Then glaring darkly at the blonde haired woman, Neria spat viciously "What happened Angelique, the Wardens kicked you out?"

"Of course not. I merely came here to make sure the orders of the Revered Mother were followed." She said all high and mighty.

"Really? The last time you came here you left on your rear. 't would be a shame if it would happen again. Say what you want! Speak quickly then leave!"

"Rude as always. But what can one expect from a knife-eared street urchin from the Alienage? The Revered Mother demands you hand over the apostates that blew up the Kirkwall Chantry and killed so many innocents. We know they are hiding here."

"I'm _disinclined_ to acquiesce to your request. For those of you who are slower, it means no. The Wardens are neutral and bow to no one especially an Orlesian Revered Mother. Moreover the fugitives are not here. And even if they were one of them is a Grey Warden. His punishment would be up to me alone."

Neria looked carefully at the men surrounding the Warden; thugs, thieves, low lives and some soldiers scattered around formed her army. Even if they would attack, Neria was sure her Wardens could handle it. Angelique bristled with fury, but smiled malevolently.

"I was expecting you to say that. I will make sure to make it look like your death was an unfortunate accident," she added drawing out her sword. Suddenly, one of the soldiers, a slim, willowy thing stepped out from the ranks. Neria could not see who he was as the helmet he wore covered his face, but he moves slowly, almost elegantly to the blonde woman. Stopping briefly by her side, he whispered something softly in her ear that made Angelique cry out a series of curses in Orlesian. The soldier walked over to Neria and threw away his helmet revealing vivid, scarlet hair and a pair of gentle blue eyes. Upon seeing her, the elf mage laughed in delight:

"You always knew how to make an entrance Leliana!"

"Of course, my friend." The two turned their attention back to Angelique who was glaring daggers. The blonde woman snarled in anger and cried out:

"Attack!"

"What did you tell her to ire her so?" Neria laughed out and released a series of ice cones and lightings in the mass of soldiers that was approaching. Leliana did not have the time to answer as she brought forth her daggers and entered the fray as well.


	7. A mage's plight

_**A/N I promise this is the last character centric chapter and afterward I will actually start the action. But at the moment I'm not sure which path to choose with the story so I'm delaying the inevitable a bit. It is written in a slightly different manner, but I figure it worked best with Ander's character. Thank you for all your lovely reviews, and don't worry Anna's father will officially be revealed soon. Though I think after this chapter it is clear who he is.**_

* * *

><p>Battle sounds echo from the courtyard; the clash of metal over metal rings loudly in Anders' ears as he watches the battle with concern. The blonde haired woman has about three or four dozen men, Neria at least a hundred. In the middle of the battle, the mage is fighting several foes at the same time. Surrounded by a blue shimmering shield she casts rapidly, a fireball here, a lightning there trying to ignore the fact that the enemies seem to be ganging upon her. Next to her Nathaniel Howe is working miracles with his twin daggers as he slashed at the enemies, opening deep, gaping wounds over his chest. Somewhere, standing on the gates, a red haired archer is sending her arrows with deadly precision. Each of her targets fall the instant they are hit; Velanna is also on the wall casting healing spells for the Wardens while trying to squeeze in some hits of her own. Sigrun and Oghren are fighting back to back, their weapons falling with accurate precision as they give in to the bloodlust of the battle.<p>

Upon seeing it from a top most window it seems clear who is going to win; the Wardens are already pushing their assailants back, those that are still alive that is. Still the other Warden, Angelique is not giving up. With an almost mad smile she pushes the ranks until she is face to face with Neria. The elf mockingly bows to her before casting her staff aside and taking out her daggers. She wishes to fight the blonde woman from an equal footing, making her defeat more stinging than if she had used magic. She circles the mail clad woman like an eagle, her emerald robes swirling around her and she steps forwards steel meeting steel, the clash of a sword and a dagger ringing in the courtyard. Everywhere around them the battle ceased as both parties watch their commanders, one with respect, the other with anxiety. The robe makes Neria lighter and she dances around Angelique with glee landing blow after blow, met by the giant longsword the woman wields. The robe helps her, but also fails to protect her when the sword slashes at her arm drawing blood and leaving a deep gash behind. Neria looks at the wound mockingly and sends a biting remark which angers Angelique; she attacks faster, but sloppier and this time Neria places a few blows that slip through the metal chains of the armor and hit the soft flesh behind.

A battle is won or lost even before it starts; that was what Neria used to tell him when he had joined the Wardens. If the commander is angry he gets careless and loses the battle. This time Angelique lost the battle before she even started it. When the little elf manages to get so close to the blonde haired woman in order to slip her dagger through her breastplate, its tip softly touching the flesh above the heart, Angelique throws her sword away and acknowledges defeat. Her soldiers are all herded by the Wardens and sent to the dungeons, while Angelique is left alone to return. She is a warden and therefore cannot be touched by anyone else except the First Warden.

Next to him, Hawke had been watching the battle unfold with the same intense gaze as him. Her fingers and entwined with his and she knows this is the only path they can take. They have already been attacked by Antiva and Orlais. As the fires of the revolution would sweep across the land all of Thedas would follow unless they found a way to make peace with all of them.

The fight has its casualties… many of the attackers had fallen, but some of the Wardens were also wounded. The blonde elf from the other day had a bleeding wound above his left eye and Oghren was supporting a bad hit to the head. Others were battered and bruised and some looked like they had sustained heavy injury. Knowing that his help would be needed, he places another kiss on his lover's lips and walks to the healer's quarter where he remains for the following hours tending to the injured, even those coming from the other party.

As he heals her wounds, Neria smiles at him mysteriously and tells him to go to his old room. Unsure whether she is mocking him or not Anders follows her orders and finds himself in front of the dark mahogany door. The door is full of drawings depicting a big tiger eating Templars and in a corner a softer hand drew as mage with a kitten in his arms chasing away some Templars. The last drawing had been made by Neria shortly before she left ; as he pushes the door open he expects anything expect the loud meowing echoing in the room. Cautiously he makes his way inside and sees his room untouched: the same writing desk, the same old, drawer, even the bed looks as if it had been barely touched. There on top of the fluffy red blankets a ginger cat stands meowing, looking at him with big, green eyes. With tears in his eyes Anders runs to the cat and hugs her, remembering happier times when a cheerful elf handed him a small kitten she had found in Amaranthine.

Standing on his bed and remembering those times he weeps, for the friends he had lost, for the friends he had abandoned and for the friends that were still there, next to him, supporting him and helping him. The cat meows sadly and jumps on his shoulder licking his face, trying to make him smile. He petts her softly and notices the small silhouette standing in the doorstep.

"I forgive you." She whispers quietly to him and turns around to allow him the dignity of expressing his weaknesses in the silence of his old room. As he stands there he thinks of all the adventures he went through and hops that in one way or the other things would turn out all right. He could atone for his sins and cast away the dark shadow that loomed over Thedas.

Several minutes later there is a loud knock on the door, louder than necessary, that announced Nathaniel Howe's presence. His left arm was caught in a sling after having been broken with a mace during battle; he approaches Anders and sits down on the bed absent mindedly stroking the cat's head as well.

"It's good to have you back. I missed all the jokes about the Howe, the Whats and the Whys." Nathaniel smiles a bit.

"See, I told you eventually you'd find my jokes amusing."

"I didn't find them amusing, I found their disappearance boring."

"I guess I should settle with that." Anders turns sober and asks "How did she react when she learned how I ran away?"

"She was mad at first, but she was mostly mad at herself for not having been here to protect you, for letting you down. She had a lot on her mind back then when she came back especially since she had just found out she was expecting. It came as a shock; we have always been told the taint makes it impossible for Grey Wardens to have children."

"Is she his child?" Anders asks, half hoping the answer to be no. When Nathaniel nods he frowns darkly. "Then why aren't they with him? Why is he there while they remain here?"

"It's complicated. Many changed since you left. He had to marry shortly after Neria found out about Anna's existence. The woman wasn't too thrilled to find out she had someone to compete with. And after their son was born, things got harder. Neria decided it hurt too much and she pulled away, decided they couldn't be anything more than friends as long as that woman is around. He still sees Anna once a month at least."

"And that's that?" Anders snaps, "He agreed to it! Agreed to submit to the whims of a woman he doesn't love and lose the one who was always there for him?"

"I guess he did." Nathaniel shakes his head and rises from the bed. "Make sure you don't make the same mistake and lose the one you love."

"Am I that obvious?" Anders smiles to Nathaniel.

"Of course. Even that cat of yours is harder to read."

"Why Ser-Pounce-a-Lot he almost called you smart!"

"In your dreams!"" Nathaniel snorts and leaves the room quietly.

Anders rises to his feet, Ser-Pounce-a-lot cradled to his chest. He leaves the room in silence and scowls darkly at anyone who passes by him. He is angry now at him, at her, at them. How could that man forsake her and the child? After all she did for him, for the blasted country? He hadn't noticed before, but now when he thinks about it, he could see it in her eyes, a veil of sadness that wasn't there before. In the past she was happy, optimistic, running around the country to help everyone. Now it seemed as if a piece of her was hidden somewhere deep inside. Neria had always doubted herself, Anders knew that much, but now it seemed as if she was punishing herself for even thinking that she had the right to be happy like everyone else.

Hours later he softly walks to Hawke's room. He enters silently and sees her clad in her night attire, brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She smiles when she sees him and he grabs her in his arms, almost desperately, kissing her with burning passion. He vows to show her how much she means to him, how much he loves her. He vows to make sure she is always safe even at the cost of his own life. The events in Kirkwall had been tragic, but he had had no other way to solve the dispute. Now that war was engulfing the country he would fight till the end for all he held dear.


	8. The waves of Revolution

_**A/N Well here is the next chapter. Thank you for your reviews! The action starts to intensify starting with this chapter. I have also posted a poll on my profile regarding this story so if you have some time to vote I will be eternally grateful.  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>As Fenris walked down the corridors of the Keep, he wondered yet again what he was doing in this whole affair. He didn't care for mages, he actually believed that is was better for them to be locked up away for everyone else's safety. The only mage he trusted was Hawke and she had fought hard to earn that trust during the last ten years. However what was happening at the Kirkwall Circle resembled slavery too much for him to be ok with it. He had seen two Templars dragging a half unconscious girl who had been whipped half to death; that alone reminded him of his time spent in Danarius's "care".<p>

Still, now that he was here, at Vigil's Keep he didn't know where he stood anymore. Everyone was approaching him with strained courtesy and it was clear that even the Warden Commander did not know how to talk to him. She had tried, but he had always brushed her off because she was a mage. It was hard to comprehend how that Qunari managed to see past her statute as saarebas and actually see her as Kadan.

What was his role in this battle? Was he to be a weapon to be wielded or something more? He was unsure why he didn't simply leave, but he owned Hawke more than that. For now he would wait and see how the events unfolded. Afterward he would make his decision…

Suddenly a door screeched open and a pair of green eyes framed by blond locks peered at him through the opening. Fenris sighed as the little girl walked slowly, almost shyly towards him and smiled at him. He was confused she was so silent and almost withdrawn, opposed to how she had been the last two times he met her.

"Mama said to leave you alone. But you lonely like Anna." The child explained softly making her sound more mature than her age. "Wanna talk to Anna a bit?" He noticed she kept referring to herself at third person and wondered if that was a normal occurrence in young children. Fenris wanted to say no and walk away, but it was clear that something was bothering the child and something compelled him to talk to her. He nodded and she grabbed his hand dragging him in her room. She sat on the bed and motioned him to do the same; she was almost sad and he was confused what caused the change in the little girl.

"I don't wanna have to leave mama." She said sadly as tears gathering in her eyes. "I heard mama talk to uncle Zev about kids taken to a tower if they did magic. I don't wanna have magic like mama. Magic bad if magic take me away from mama." The child started crying and it was clear that the thought had been plaguing her for some time now. She threw herself in Fenris' arms startling the elf who stood frozen as the little girl cried in his chest. When she finally stopped, he asked her in a voice as kind as he could muster, which was mostly a neutral tone.

"Can you do magic?" To be honest to himself, he was somewhat anxious to find out her answer. Would this kind child be in danger of becoming a monstrous abomination one day?

"I don't make things happen like mama. But I see things…" she said quietly and Fenris scowled darkly wondering what exactly she saw. Demons perhaps? "I see lights. They float around everyone. Mama's light is like the ocean and it makes me feel safe. Uncle Zev has a funny sparkly light that makes me laugh. Uncle Oghren's light is like that thing he drinks. But some have bad lights… the lady that came the other day had a mean red light. And one of mama's guards has a black, scary light."

Fenris wondered whether the child could truly see the color of one's soul or if everything was in her imagination. He found himself vaguely wondering what his color was.

"You Anna's friend because Anna likes your color. It's blue and fuzzy and makes Anna feel warm and safe. But the light is sad and lonely because you need a friend. That's why Anna is Fenris' friend." The elf was startled to see the child once again hug him, but this time he awkwardly petted her on the head. He had to have a talk to the Warden about the colors her daughter saw.

Hours later the meeting chamber was bustling with activity. Neria had gathered together those most involved in the situation at hand in order to try to find a way to solve the situation. Zevran and Leliana were there having brought news from Antiva and Orlais. Fenris, Anders, Varric and Hawke had joined the meeting, while their other friends, less involved, saw to their own affairs. Nathaniel was seated next to Leliana looking morose as usual through the whole situation.

"Right, so what do we know at the moment?" asked Hawke "That after the destruction in Kirkwall all Circles started rebelling. Exceptions make Tevintar, well no comments there, Seheron and Par Vollen."

"In Orlais the Circle has been annulled." Leliana announced sadly. "Most mages perished and those who didn't were sent to the dungeons. It happened shortly after the Chantry blew up in Kirkwall."

"Last I saw it, Antiva was not interested in this war. They have better things to do, no? Antivans are not keen on fighting, despite the notoriety the Crows hold. The remaining Crows that is." Zevran smiled with a glint of malice in his eyes.

"Very well." Neria nodded. "That leaves half of Thedas. The Orlesian Revered Mother was smart not to send Templars, but unknown soldiers. This way, should they fail, the deed cannot be linked back to her. It would be my word against hers."

"Surely they would believe the slayer of the Archdemon." Varric raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"If the slayer would have been a beautiful, noble woman with a tragic past that joined the Grey Wardens to avenge her family and in the process saved the world, sure they would. However as luck has it the Hero of Ferelden is a low life knife-ear who has magic running in her veins."

The description was punctuated with such hatred in her voice that most of the people staying at that table cringed. It was clear that was not the first time the mage had been described in such a brutal way.

"Despite everything I did, that happened ten years ago. The time erased the horrors of the Blight from most people's minds and they were quick to forget who fought to make sure they would live to tell the tale. We could kindly ask the darkspawn to start a new Blight. If it's one thing it does, it's bringing people together."

The dark glances she received made Neria laugh. Especially Zevran and Leliana were scowling furiously.

"So what do we do now?" Anders asked neutrally, "Nevarra and the Anderfels haven't started rebelling, but it's only a matter of time. Rivain probably won't start anything. The Free Marches are already firing up their revolutions. We must find a way to stop this before it leads to more deaths, but without making the mages slaves to the Templars anymore. "

"I'm curious," Neria turned towards Fenris, "how do you view the situation in question?"

"I have little love for mages." Fenris scowled bitterly "The Tevintar Imperium made sure of that. However, I have even littler love for slavers and that was what the Templars in Kirkwall were turning into. I do not know the situation in other parts except Kirkwall and Tevintar, but I agree that mages should be somewhat confined for their own good and that of others."

"You mean caged!" Anders spat.

"No mage. What I mean is that they must be schooled. However, I admit there are less cases of possession in the ranks of the Dalish than in the Circle. That is due to the Templars who probably overstep their bounds. The way I see it if you let mages free they turn into abominations, if you cage them they resort to blood magic. It is a vicious circle, but perhaps the Dalish and Chasind have an answer to it."

"Fenris is right in a certain degree." Hawke stepped in "But why would the Dalish share their ways with us. Merril cannot help us as she herself dabbled in the forbidden arts nor does she wish to remember her clan. Perhaps, Velanna…"

"Velanna's lost her clan and rarely speak of what came to pass before that." Neria said softly "I do not wish to burden her so. However I know a Dalish Keeper, her name is Lanaya and she aided us greatly during the Blight. Her clan lives in the Brecillian Forest and perhaps she might have a solution to our problems. We should also try to contact the Circle see where they stand."

"And how would that help us?" Anders scowled "Irving never actually stood up to Gregoir. He merely danced to the templar's tune."

"You see things as you desire, but I see them in a different manner. However Irving is no longer First Enchanter, he passed away two years ago. The Circle is led by Petra and she was Wynne's apprentice and for that alone I trust her greatly. Also Gregoir stepped down and Ser Bryant from Lotherin became Knight-Commander. He is a good man and definitely less stone fisted than Gregoir. Ser Perth is also there to send news to Arl Eamon about his son Connor. He would not allow any children and especially Connor to be harmed."

"Is he that guy looking Knight we helped during the siege of Redcliffe?" Leliana asked, a smile playing on her lips and Neria nodded.

"Oh, do tell me I'm allowed to go to the Circle Tower." The Orleasian bard winked and Neria nodded in amusement.

"Someone has to announce the King as well." Nathaniel interfered, "Even though the two attacks were on the Wardens they took place in the arling of Amaranthine and put its citizens in danger."

It was as if a cold wave fell on the entire gathering. Neria looked as if she wanted to deny the statement, while Leliana, Zevran and Anders had looks raging from sadness to pure hatred on their faces. It was clear that the five knew something the others didn't but neither Hawke nor her friends wished to interfere in this particular matter.

"You are right." Neria sighed "His Majesty must be told. And there's someone else who could help us, but most of you aren't going to like it."

"And who might that be, my dear Warden?" Zevran piped in with curiosity.

"Avernus."

"Who is that?" Anders asked mirroring the confusion all his friends felt.

"Umm… actually his description consists of a series of negative traits." Neria cringed waiting for the explosion to come. "He's a blood mage… and an abomination… and a Grey Warden who lived several hundred years using unknown methods."

3…2…1…

"You have to be joking!" "Are you out of your mind?" "Does he look like a pickled cucumber?" "How could you even think trusting such a man?" "' 'tis a very, very bad idea, Neria!"

Neria rose her arms in surrender trying to silence the ground. They immediately quieted down allowing her to explain what she had in mind… if she had anything in mind that is.

"I know it sounds like a very bad idea, but just hear me out. The man, if you can still call him that, performed a heap of test throughout the years. Perhaps he knows of a way to prevent the Tranquility solution and stop the mages that go through the Harrowing from making deals with the demons later on."

"That sounds reasonable enough," Anders said. "It's actually surprising coming from you, Commander."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Warden." she growled in annoyance.

"But can we trust this mage?" Nathaniel interfered.

"Not by a long shot." Neria admitted, "But he owes me his life and that might persuade him to help me. If there's someone out there who might find a way to prevent mages from being Tranquil it's him."

"Well that's that. Clearly we have to split in four different groups if we wish to manage to do anything." Hawke pointed out, "I also believe Varric should use his story spinning talents to tell the whole tale plus the one of the attack in a favorable manner for us."

"You should know by now that I like the sound of my voice, Hawke. Of course I'll change taverns and add a little dynamic to these sleepy Ferelden places."

"Very well!" Neria concluded "Then all that remains to be seen is who goes where. Hopefully after we all return we will have some answers on how to deal with this crisis."


	9. The parting of ways

_**A/N You know this story is already 30 pages long not counting this chapter. I can honestly say I'm proud of myself :D. Anyway here is the next chapter, thank you very much for reviewing and don't forget that I do not own anything. This chapter is more of an interlude and I want to say I'm sorry for any mistakes I made, but I did not have time to spellcheck it.  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>Hours later the groups had been made… it was painfully obvious that they needed to split and go in different directions, but Neria could not help but wonder if this was truly safe. Wouldn't this decision brand them as targets and make it easier for whoever wanted them dead to finish the job? It mattered little now as they were already prepairing to go their separate ways; still, an almost maniacal grin crossed Neria's face and waves of magic surged through her hand thinking of those foolish enough to challenge her. She had thought she wanted peace and quiet, a normal life, but getting closer and closer to battle made her realize how much she missed everything. Her enemies were in for a surprise.<p>

The groups they had made were the most sensible ones considering the fact that Neria truly trusted a handful of people and Hawke only had her friends to back her up. Both women talked and discussed their options at great length, finally agreeing that whatever they did a few of their most trusted ones needed to remain at the Vigil and keep an eye out for trouble. As a result Neria appointed Sigrun, Commander in her absence and asked Velanna to remain as well. It would do no good to the elf to see a clan that was clearly happy when her one had been lost and her sister Seranni remained hidden. Fenris too decided to remain stating clearly that he had no business dwelling in the matters of mages and nothing more could be asked of him. Several of his friends briefly wondered whether his stay had something to do with a certain blonde haired little imp.

Hawke was the first to point out that as an apostate she could not head to the Circle and Neria readily agreed. Even though the Commander had immunity when it came to dealing with Templars thanks to her Warden status and the same could be stretched for Anders, it was clear that the Champion of Kirkwall was no longer under the favors of the Templars. As a result she decided to head to the ruins of Ostagar where Keeper Lanaya set up the Dalish camp for the time being. Anders quickly added he was going with her and Neria could not deny him that. It pleased her to see that some stories were actually happy despite the heartache sustained in the process. Shyly, Merril asked if she could go as well, scared yet eager, as she was the one who had the most chances to find the Dalish Camp. Though everyone agreed, they did not do so with an easy heart.

The Denerim group was the easiest one to pick. It was clear that Nathaniel Howe was the one who had the most reasons to go being the Commander's second in command and the only one who did not feel inclined to kick the King where it hurts for reasons that remained unknown to most of the group. Nate was told to be on the lookout for suspicious people and check the Gnawed Noble Tavern as that was the perfect place for brewing conspiracies. Drunk nobles were often more talkative than when they were sober and loved to brag with their ingenious ideas. Isabela quickly jumped at the occasion to head to Denerim and decided to check the Pearl for information. Everyone was too afraid to ask why. The last member of the group was Varric, who was already weaving an impressive tale about the cowardly attack that took place on Vigil's Keep.

When it came to going to the Circle of Magi, people were more reluctant to head there than do Avernus. Oghren stated simply that being in that wretched place made him think of turning back to drinking and Zevran stated calmly that his place was with Neria to protect her. As a result Leliana who was already eager to meet Ser Perth again was going to be accompanied only by Aveline who stated that she would rather face the mages than a fanatic, immortal mage. Her husband, Donnic, had decided he was needed at the Vigil and she agreed.

In the end Neria was going to be accompanied by Zevran and Oghren on her way to see Avernus. She could not stop but wonder whether the old mage had something up his sleeve, whether Flemeth would appear again and whether another mysterious foe will present himself just as it happened in the affair with the Architect. Moreover she loathed the idea of leaving Anna by herself even though she would be carefully guarded by Sigrun and Velanna. Part of her was relieved that Fenris stayed behind because she knew that even though the elf disliked her, there was something about her child that drew him to Anna.

The sun was already setting down behind the hills and everyone's packs had been made. They were expected to leave at dawn and all were anxious on what awaited them on the road.

The Commander was in her daughter's room, softly petting the child's blonde locks and gently muttering a song she had learned from Leliana on their travels, In Uthenera.

Anders and Hawke were resting side by side in the twin bed they had been given, her head resting on his shoulder and his hand caressing her hair and her skin. They wondered what was going to happen in the future and whether the choice they had made was the right one. Somewhere, deep inside Anders' soul, Justice was tossing and turning, ashamed yet unbending, wondering what the Commander would say if she had the opportunity to talk to him.

In the dining hall, Varric, Isabela and Oghren were sharing tales, all three more sober than they usually were. Change was looming at the horizon and they all felt it, but whether it was for the best or for the worst none could tell. For now all they could do was assumed their given roles.

Aveline and Donnic walked side by side in the courtyard, patrolling to make sure nothing escaped the Wardens' notice. They held hands, their finger entwined, but none said anything. What could they say? They chose friendship over loyalty to the Chantry and now they were living with the effects of their decision. They were not sorry…

Two shapes were stealthily patrolling the corridors outside the Commander's room. They blended perfectly in the shadows, moving in perfect synchronization. To them it mattered little what happened to the outside world if their friend and leader was not in danger. They had both been saved by her, in different fashions, and they would never forsake the bounds of friendship they created during the Blight.

Outside the Keep, watching the night sky with big, green eyes, Merill was questioning her decision to leave and meet the Dalish clan. She knew it was the easiest way to find them, but what would they say when they met her? What if there was someone from her former clan there?

Fenris was wide awake even as the clock stroke midnight at the Keep. He was in his room, staring at the ceiling wondering why on Thedas had he decided to remain in Ferelden? Was it still because of Hawke? No! He still cared deeply for her, but the infatuation behind his care was long gone. It had disappeared in the moment she chose to be with her mage. Then why? As he wondered blonde locks flashed in front of his eyes, a dazzling smile and an innocent "You are my friend." Then followed emerald eyes shining in the midst of battle, red hair twirling madly as spells flew and blades clashed and a conversation in which the woman said that she was simply a Warden, not a mage, not a woman. Did they actually lose all connections with their past lives when they become Wardens or was something else at stake that gave her that title? At that time Fenris wondered whether she truly perceived herself as thus or something happened to her. He rolled around and glared at the wall; why did he care? She was a mage, he hated mages, simple as that! Yet, Hawke was a mage as well…

As the clock stroke one past midnight everyone was fast asleep…


	10. Diplomacy in Denerim

_**A/N Hello everyone and thank you for your lovely reviews. I am terribly sorry I have been unable to update until now, but real life and University kept me on a tight leash. This chapter is dedicated to Arch-Daishou who reminded me that I still have a story to finish and Daydreaming Out Of Reality who gave me some pointers regarding my story. Thank you very much! As usual Bioware owns everything, I am merely tweaking their characters and torturing them to satisfy my evil desires :D. Enjoy and don't forget to review. Constructive criticism is always welcomed as far as I'm concerned :D.**_

* * *

><p>As Nathaniel Howe made his way across the long corridors of the Royal Palace, he once again remembered why he was so glad that he no longer had to mingle in politics. Curiously, it was the only thing that turned right out of his father's treachery. The warden was in search of the King who had received his missive about the attack on Vigil's Keep. He was to meet the Royal couple and he was mentally repeating a mantra in his head that say: "Don't kill the king Nate or Neria will skin you alive." He too had a grudge against his sovereign, but unlike Anders, Leliana or Zevran he was actually able to keep his cool and refrain from attacking Alistair, verbally or otherwise. Must have come from his mother's side of the family, the Maker knew his father never had one ounce of diplomacy in his veins.<p>

His group, formed of himself, Varric and Isabela was the first to leave Vigil's Keep. Although their trip was the shortest, only three days at most, they would have to remain the longest in the city in order to gather information and probably also attend a Landsmeet, if the king deemed it necessary. As a result, after a voyage full of sexual insinuations on Isabela's part and lots of engaging tales from Varric they had reached Denerim where it was decided they would split up. Isabela hurried towards the Pearl, with a knowing light in her eyes that made Nate afraid to ask what she knew or guessed. Varric, on the other hand, hurried to the Tavern where it was decided the three of them would meet after Nate conducted his business with the king.

As a result, Senior Warden Nathaniel Howe, found himself waiting in front of the attendance chamber, where the King and the former bann White River and current Queen, Lady Eira were still in council with Arl Eamon. Five minutes passed and the arl left the meeting chamber allowing Nate to enter. The Warden soon found himself face to face with the sovereigns of the country and could not help looking closely at the Queen. He had seen her only once or twice, during her wedding and the Landsmeet that preceded it and had therefore been unable to catch a true glimpse of her. Now, as they stood face to face he started comparing her with the Commander, trying to understand what made Alistair abandon his family and chose a stranger he did not love instead.

Her hair was dark and shiny, courtesy of being washed with the most expensive soaps, led loose upon her shoulders, with a thin braid encircling her head. Her eyes were a pale blue, like the ice that gathered on the branch of the trees in winter. Her porcelain skin made her look ethereal as if she was not truly human. Her face was round, almost bearing a childish look and she had rosy red lips that seemed almost perfect. At first glance the Queen truly was a beautiful woman, but everything from her appearance, to her candid smile and her posture screamed "fake" at Nathaniel.

As a man, he knew that the Commander was far from a perfect beauty. Her red hair, singed in some places by fire was cut short in a boy's style. Her skin was marred by cuts and old scares that glimmered in the candle light. The skin on her hands was blistered from the fights. Only her emerald eyes remained untouched by the atrocities they witnessed, gaining wisdom as years went by. However, despite all this, Neria Surana, Warden Commander of Ferelden held an inside beauty that outshone all her imperfections. Her smile was always warm, having a meal ready for anyone who needed it. Her personality was strong, yet polite, not having the arrogance that belonged to human lords. Those who knew her well would never choose the queen over her. And yet, the man who was closest to her abandoned the elf Warden without mercy.

"Your Majesties!" Nathaniel gave a low bow as customary and waited to be allow to join the sovereigns by their desk.

"Nathaniel!" Alistair greeted him cheerfully, "Please sit! Tell us what brings you here. Your letter only stated that Vigil's Keep was attacked twice."

"I am afraid it is so, your Majesty! Both times we were attacked by foreigners, first by the Antivan crows in the dead of the night and second by a contingent of Orlesian rif-raff and soldiers who were led by an Orlesian Warden."

"A Warden?" the queen interfered, in what seemed a pleasant tone that was in fact a mocking jest on Nate's behalf. "Then why should the Crown be troubled by an attack that came from the insides on the organization you are part of, Warden?"

"The woman was cast away from Ferelden by the Commander years ago," Nate almost gritted his teeth in frustration, "She no longer works for the Wardens, but sees to her own devices anytime she can do so. Moreover, she admitted to having been sent by an Orlesian Revered Mother."

"A Revered Mother?" the Queen gasped in fake surprise, cutting off anything the King would have wanted to say. "Surely she was lying. No Revered Mother would ever involve herself in politics and send an attack upon a nation with whom her country has an alliance." The Queen paused a moment and a nasty glint appeared in her eyes briefly. Faking being contrite, she said softly: "As for the fight your Commander had with the Orlesian Warden, it is a shame, but surely we cannot expect an elf from the Alienage to be able to treat with Orlesian ladies and lords in a diplomatic manner. I afraid she was simply not bred to do so."

At this accusation even the King looked annoyed and cut the Queen's tirade briefly.

"I assure you Eira, Neria is more than capable to handle herself with decorum. She was raised in the Circle Tower and they were sticklers for manners. Senior Enchanter Wynne managed to make a drunken dwarf eat politely while in company of others."

Nathaniel blinked in astonishment… did he hear correctly? Did the Queen actually insult the Commander of the Grey and the Hero of Ferelden?

'And here I was thinking I had to refrain from killing the King,' he thought morosely. 'Apparently the Queen is a more likely victim.'

"Your Majesty," the Warden said to Eira, "the Commander did not antagonize Angelique in any way. The woman is simply a badly raised peasant from Orlais who happened to be able to wield a blade in an adequate manner and who passed her Joining. Nothing more, nothing less. She is no lady! As far as the attack, the problem was not the Warden's personal vendetta against the Commander, but rather her mistaken belief that the fugitives from Kirkwall were seeking shelter within our midst."

"Has Hawke made any contact with the Commander?" Alistair asked.

"Of course not, your Majesty," Nathaniel lied smoothly, "why should she? Anders fled Vigil's Keep years ago and Seraphina Hawke has no connection whatsoever with the Commander."

The Warden saw the Queen's eyes flash with fury, though she masked it well. That was intriguing… perhaps she was involved in the attacks as well. Someone should keep an eye on her as well. Perhaps Zevran would do the trick… he will have to think about it…

"Anyway," Alistair interfered, "So far my hands are tied as we don't have any proof to back up the Warden's announcement that she was working for a Revered Mother. All we have to do is wait…"

"The Commander believed so as well. I have merely come to inform your Majesties that the Arling has been attacked."

"Hmph," the Queen looked a bit affronted, "If no damage was done, a letter would have been sufficient. In any case those terrorists would have been better off killed by the Orlesians. Others might prolong their pain longer."

Nathaniel shuddered, but did not ask who these others were. However, unable to stop himself he smirked and stated calmly.

"That is not a very Andrastian thought, your Majesty. Now, if I may, I will take my leave."

He turned around and left followed by the Queen's annoyed spluttering and the King's joyous laughter. Sometimes diplomacy in Denerim left one feeling very satisfied.


	11. Lessons in the Circle Tower

_**A/N Here is the next chapter, as promised one involving Leliana and Aveline. For those who have not read my oneshot, An Old God's Gift I advise you to do so as it will be tied to the next chapters. Also, I want to point out that the timeline of their travels is not the same and I will be going back and forth between timelines until the all return to Vigil's Keep. Disclaimer stands!**_

* * *

><p>They had been on the road for several days now. Almost two weeks had passed since they left Vigil's Keep and both women were eaten up with insecurities and doubt. Aveline kept thinking back to Donnic, hoping nothing happened while they were away and yet knowing that the guardsman would be more than prepared to deal with whatever life threw at him. After all, she had been his captain, she should know best.<p>

The red haired bard, on the other hand, was silent due to different reasons. She kept thinking back to some moments that had happened two years ago, when death was looming over all of them , when they clung to the idea of hope with their entire being and prayed to live another day. She thought back to Redcliffe and the day before the undead attacked. That day it was only the five of them, Neria, Alistair, Morrigan, Sten and herself. They were coming to a place they hoped would be a safe heaven and instead found a city at war. Neria quickly picked up the mantle of leadership as she had done when rescuing Sten in Lothering and promised Bann Teagan to help. They had rushed everywhere to set up traps for the undead and met everyone, including Ser Perth.

During the council she had played coy and pretended she did not remember the Knight that much. But in a time when death was waiting for you at all corners, one needed to be remained that he was alive. She too had felt the need for tenderness and passion and the both of them were attracted to each other like moths to a flame. When Neria left for the Denerim leaving the bard behind to recover from the wounds she had sustained in the battle against the undead, Leliana allowed herself to indulge in the pleasantries of life. However, she had been careless and she allowed herself to care… as a bard she had to obtain the necessary information by all means. Most of the times, a man was most talkative while in bed and she made sure to use her looks to her advantage. The idea of love was something foreign for her. Yet, while she remained in Redcliffe she started caring and this care could have turned to something more had she allowed it to. But she got scared, not wanting to drop her defenses in front of someone else than her dearest friends so she ran away… from him, from herself, from the city. She immersed herself in battle and anytime they returned to Redcliffe she made sure to avoid him and the Chantry.

Now, as she was heading towards the Circle Tower, doubt was eating her soul and she had no idea how he would react upon seeing her. Looking at Aveline, she begrudged the guard for her link to Donnic and the closeness the two shared. But she chose not to say anything and else decided to find out more information about Hawke.

"Aveline," the bard asked with her Orlesian accent, "how did you meet Hawke?"

The guard remained silent for some time, recalling events that happened years ago. Yet, at the same time, that moment remained etched in her very soul for it had brought both finality and a new change for the woman.

"Ten years ago, we were running from the Blight. The army had been slaughtered, I had barely made it out of the battle alive and my former husband, Wesley had come to find me. We met near Lothering in a field scorched by fire and taint. We ran, hoping to get rid of the darkspawn that were hot on our tails. But we had no such luck! They caught up with us and we started fighting for our lives. We would have been slaughtered on the spot had Hawke and her family not appeared at that precise moment. They fought to help us, not knowing who we were and not caring that a Templar was there and he could easily identify two apostates. During the fight Wesley was injured and the wound corrupted, yet we did not know at that time. We continued our way together, fighting in front in order to protect Leandra, Hawke's mother and Wesley whose wound made him unable to fight. Bethany, poor Bethany, Hawke's younger sister and Carver's twin was slaughtered by an ogre before we were outnumbered. We had no hope of escaping and yet something happened… a huge dragon appeared and scorched to darkspawn before turning into a Witch of the Wilds."

"Flemeth!" Leliana gasped in surprise, "I thought she was dead!"

"She was very much alive last I saw her nine years ago when she appeared in a Dalish Camp thanks to an amulet. But when we first met her we had no idea what she wanted. We would have accepted help from a bug if it promised to lead us to safety and Flemeth did just that. However, it was too late for Wesley… the wound had been tainted… he died there, on the road…" she closed her eyes, willing the images of Wesley bleeding, stabbed by her blade away. When Aveline recovered she continued:

"Flemeth took us to safety. In exchange we had to take the amulet to a Dalish Clan, the one where we found Merill. We boarded the ships from Highever and left the Blighted Ferelden behind heading towards Kirkwall where Leandra had relatives. However, things had changed since she had last been there… her parents were dead, her brother had sold away their mansion. At that time he was living in a derelict hovel, gambling at the tavern and whoring at the Blooming Rose. Carver and Hawke were practically sold into slavery for a year to a smuggler in order to pay their debt for entering the city. But their debt involved me as well, and I found myself able to apply for a place within the guards thanks to Hawke. In the years that followed she helped all of us tremendously."

Their road continued as the two shared tales of the Blight and the Champion's adventures. They found that talking made their trip easier and after another week they found themselves at Kinloch Hold, more commonly known as the Circle of Magi. Leliana was surprised to see that Kester was still the ferry man. The two women quickly crossed the lake and entered the looming citadel.

"Bleak place to live in," Aveline pointed out with no emotion in her voice.

"It used to be bleaker, when Neria was a Circle Mage, or so she told me," the bard answered. "Now, everything is much better and the mages are treated as humans, not wild criminals. The Templars actually talk to them instead of looming threateningly in the shadows. The children are no longer beaten and the apprentices no longer abused. Life changed for the better when and elf mage killed the Archdemon."

"Abused?" Aveline asked with a frown. "What do you mean by that? I knew things were harsh, but they were beaten?"

"Beaten, starved, locked in the dungeons and much more. It used to be very bad when Neria was a small child. She was very small and able to hide, but others were not so lucky. Now, this is merely a school, not a prison. Any Templar with violent tendencies is kicked out thanks to King Alistair's decrees."

As soon as they entered, a templar without his helm on appeared in front of them. He had a dark visage, resembling the people from Rivain, and warm, chocolate eyes that darted in every direction with care. Remembring some of the other Templars she had met in her journeys, Leliana wondered whether this man had chosen his path well. But then an image of Ser Otto protecting the little elf children appeared in her mind and she understood that all Templars were different.

"Welcome to Kinloch Hold," he gazed at Leliana and gasped in surprise and delight. "You are the Warden's friend, the Chantry sister. Leliana, if I remember correctly? What brought you here?"

He then turned to Aveline and introduced himself:

"I am Knight Commander Bryant. It is a pleasure to have you here."

"Aveline Vallen, former Captain of the Kirkwall guards."

"The Warden Commander sent us here to find some information. We wish to speak to you and First Enchanter Petra. It is about the events that took place in Kirkwall and the revolution that is spreading across the world," Leliana explained.

"I understand. I will call Petra and we will talk about the situation at length. I'm afraid it is more complicated than it seems at a first glance. Please follow me."

They entered what used to be Irving's study. Ser Bryant placed an extra chair at the desk and sat down. Both Leliana and Aveline were just sitting down on the other side of the desk when a woman entered the room. She no longer was the awkward and frightened mage that had helped protect the children 11 years ago. She had grown into a beautiful woman who radiated power and confidence. She was wearing the First Enchanter's robes and seemed perfectly at ease in them.

"Leliana," she smiled upon seeing the bard, "it is a pleasure to have you here. And welcome to our Tower, Captain Vallen. Kinnon announced me of your presence. I understand you wish to talk about the events that took place in Kirkwall."

"Yes," Leliana admitted. "The Warden Commander wanted to know what the Circle's official position is. Although Wardens are neutral as expected with Neria trouble found her as well and she is trying to do something to turn the whole situation better. I am afraid she feels another disaster is approaching and she wishes to see Thedas at peace."

"We cannot afford to have an official position, I'm afraid," said Ser Bryant. "The Divine is thundering in Orlais, expecting treachery and revolution at every corner and she already hates the Fereldan Tower for being better than the others. She has already cut off our lyrium supply under pretext that our templars are fraternizing with the enemy."

"She cut your lyrium supply?" Aveline frowned. "But then how…?"

"How are we still sane? Thanks to the Commander and the King. When they started reforming the Circle nine years ago they made sure we did not depend on Orlais for anything. The Commander said that one day the Divine's support would come and," here he blushed and looked away. "Yes, well, needless to say, although the phrasing was not the most respectful, she was right. We talked to the Revered Mothers from Redcliff and the Grand Cleric from Denerim and they promised to send letters to support us. Until then we are relying on the supply of lyrium sent by Lord Gorim from Kal'Hirol. After the Commander and her Wardens cleaned that place up and got rid of all the Darkspawn, the dwarves were able to create gates that sealed the lower passages were those filthy monsters were still crawling. Therefore the fortress bloomed again and many moved there to help rebuild it. The Commander made a deal with Gorim to send monthly doses of lyrium to the Templars to be stored and used in case something like this happened."

"It looks like the Commander had been planning this for a long time," Aveline mused. "She's been gathering allies all this time. Helping the dwarves, helping the mages… I can bet she helped the Dalish as well since the Blight why? Did she know anything?"

Petra seemed passive and wondered what exactly Neria had known to help her make these preparations. Was it simply caution? The elf had always been somewhat paranoid and the Blight only made it worse. Or was it something else? Had she Seen anything? Seers were extremely rare and as a child she had not appeared to have the gift, but anything was possible.

"Anyway," Petra interfered. "We are also preparing. If the worst scenario comes to pass we are able to barricade ourselves in the Tower for a month at least. We have no wish to get involved in any Templar-Mage war. King Alistair was able to change the Tower for the better. We haven't had more than 2 failed Harrowings per year and only three mages chose to be made Tranquil. They had come from families that have been slaughtered during the Blight and wanted to escape the images that hunted them still. They could not focus their magic because of it."

"When we heard what happened in Kirkwall," Ser Bryant interfered, "we were afraid the war might have been heading our way so we started making plans. This Circle has barely been rebuilt after losing so much during the Blight. We will not enter head first in another slaughter."

"Well, it appears out concerns were not founded," Leliana smiled. "Neria was afraid turmoil might be brewing here as well as it is in the other countries. But I see everything is in order. Aren't there any troublemakers?"

"No one to rival Anders," Petra laughed, but turned sober as soon as she remembered Anders was apparently to blame for what had happened. "Michael is an apprentice that came from the Highever Alienage who gets bored fast and pranks everyone. Solona's last living relative, her sister, was killed in a bandit skirmish and the child is very bitter now especially she blames herself for having magic and not being there to defend her sister. She is always acting up and switching from depressed to angry and back again. And then there was Deyna who tried to run away when she heard her mother was sick, but did not even make it across the lake. One of the Templars took her to see her mother who lives in a village nearby. The poor woman passed away a few days after, but at least she managed to see her only child once more."

"Apart from these three, nobody has been acting up. They enjoy being able to write letters and learn news from home and view the Tower as a school rather than a prison," Ser Bryant added, "I always believed that something had to be changed about the past system, but what could an unimportant Templar from Lothering do?"

"Well, the King did not deem you unimportant, did he?" Petra snorted.

"Alistair always spoke fondly of your efforts in Lothering," Leliana admitted. "He was surprised to see a Templar that was not a stickler for rules and actually allowed himself to feel something."

"Well, then," Aveline concluded, "it appears our business here has been concluded. The Commander will be pleased."

"We will prepare a room for you," Petra smiled. "It is getting late and you should rest. A day or two won't make any differences will it? And you will be able to see for yourselves that everything is peaceful here."

The four left the study and headed towards the dining hall. It was indeed getting late and the two women had not been able to eat since they left camp, at the first hours of the morning. As they walked across the halls, Leliana stopped dead in her tracks seeing the man in front of her.

"Perth," she whispered brokenly.

"Leliana?" the knight asked in surprise. A myriad of emotions etched themselves on his face upon seeing her: fondness, warmth, hurt, anger, betrayal, sadness…


	12. Dreaming in Vigil's Keep

**A/N Ok, I was thinking of continuing the part about Leliana and Ser Perth, but unfortunately I have other ideas at the moment. For those who might not know Perth was at the Circle on Arl Eamon's orders to be a liaison between the Arl and Connor. This chapter features Fenris and Neria, but not in a way you would have expected so it's better if you check out the oneshot I told you about. Still, at the moment you can understand the story without it.**

* * *

><p>A few days prior the last group had left Vigil's Keep. Fenris had watched in silence how the Warden embraced her daughter and kept her close while the child cried not wanting to be separated from her mother for such a long period of time. The elf mage kept her close and muttered soft nonsense in her ears until Anna calmed down and released her mother. Her eyes were red and puffy; the child was unable to bear seeing her mother leave so she ran inside the Keep, probably locking herself in her room. At that time the Warden did something that baffled Fenris to no end. She came to him and asked a favor and he had said yes. It had been only the two of them, no one else had been present, but he had found he could not deny her this request. As he locked at her in that moment he saw the mother inside her; he had seen the friend, the soldier, the commander and the mage, but this last part of her was reserved only for her daughter. He still wondered where the child's father was and why he had abandoned them.<p>

Now, in the dead of the night, he was lying alone in his room wondering what had possessed him to remain at the Keep. He was a soldier, he had always fought to survive and now he was coped up in a fortress that could protect itself very well. He knew, logically, that he would have stood out wherever he would have went: the Dalish would have looked at him with distrust, the Denerim nobles would have seen him as a lowly knife-ear and the mages… he did not even want to think about the abomination the Warden had gone to meet. So he remained at the Keep, where only a little blonde haired child who had called him her friend kept him company. In truth, there was also Donnic, but the man was like a male version of Aveline, with a certain sense of humor. He had been trained as a guard since childhood and therefore knew few things outside his role.

The bed under him creaked a bit, due to the pressure of his armor. Even here, where they should have been safe, assassins had penetrated, therefore it would have been foolish of him to cast aside the only true protection he had. In addition, it intimidated the hell out of nosy junior Wardens who were gazing at him as if he were a strange animal.

Upon meeting the Warden he had appreciated that she had not stared; she brushed aside his tattoos and his armor as if they were the most natural thing in the world and make sure to give him enough space. She knew he had a grudge against mages and her as a result and she left him alone after pointing out that she was a Warden, not a mage, not an elf, not a woman.

The elf closed his eyes recalling, once more, a red haired mage twirling in a dance of death, surrounded by a band of thugs and ruffians who fell under her hits without having actually ever stood a chance. What was going on with him? The only woman he had cared about had been Hawke, but he saw her as his sister should have been had the world been a perfect one. So why was he thinking at the Warden mage? With these thoughts in his mind he fell asleep…

He found himself waking up in Danarius' mansion from Kirkwall… or was he truly awake? No, it was a dream, one that he had had many times before: on Isabela's ship, on the road, on the Wounded Coast, everytime he fell asleep and actually had a night without nightmares he saw "his" mansion. It had been his first true victory and no matter what Hawke said about the furniture or the disaster inside the manor, he felt safe there. He felt like he was his own master…

Now, he was sitting in his study, with a bottle of Aggregio Pavali next to him and a glass filled with the sour sweet drink in his hand. Small footsteps echo in the mansion, but they are not accompanied by the clink-clank one usually hears from any type of footwear. Surprised at who might be intruding in his dream, Fenris looked at the door of his study, the door that only Hawke and Varric crossed when they were in Kirkwall.

"Nice manor you have here," a soft, almost childish voice said, "Would have been better without the clutter and the broken furniture."

Fenris' eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the Warden Commander enter his study. She was no longer wearing the drakeskin robes she had put on when she left, neither was she wearing the Arlessa's robes she used when she was staying in Vigil's Keep. Instead, a pale blue dress with short sleeves was draped over her petite form, revealing angry looking scars and gashes on her arms. Her feet were bare and they were softly tap-tapping on the wooden floor. She approached him and sat down on a chair.

"Am I still dreaming," Fenris asked with uncertainty in his voice. He must have been dreaming, otherwise what would the Warden be doing in his Kirkwall mansion.

"Yes, you are and I am intruding. For that I apologize," she said softly, "I'm afraid this ability is random in its best moments. Once I managed to enter Isabela's dreams and that scarred me for life."

"This ability?" Fenris frowned. Recalling Feynriel and his nightmares he asked harshly, "Are you a Somniari?"

"No," she said unperturbed by his harshness. "I cannot control people through their dreams nor can I change anything in the Fade. I am simply able to walk in one's dreams and should I choose, reveal myself to him or her. I was not born with this ability, it was granted to me by a friend as a thank you gift."

"Another mage, probably," he spat in ire. "What was he thanking you for?"

"Killing him…" Neria answered plainly, ignoring Fenris' shocked face. She recalled the moment with both joy and sadness… perhaps it would have been better at that time had she taken the other route… less painful… but then, she wouldn't have had Anna.

"Had I had this ability when I was in the Circle Tower, I wouldn't have made it to my Harrowing. I would have been made Tranquil or worse… As it is now, it chooses who I visit and when. I have no real choice in the matter."

Fenris saw her rub a scar on her wrist absent-mindedly and figured that had not been obtained on her travels. It was circular, going round the wrist, looking as if she had been tied or cuffed in some way.

"Was the Circle as bad as Anders makes it seem?" Fenris asked with curiosity and a hint of pity in his voice.

"When he came, it wasn't," Neria answered calmly. "Anders was brought to the Tower when he was fifteen and by then Gregoir had been chosen as the new Knight-Commander. Before, when I first came to the Circle, things were really bad. Beatings, whippings, abuse… those were some of the methods they used. Sometimes they even starved us… Apprentices were always nursing broken ribs and strained wrists. I was small… I could hide in the smallest places… others were not so fortunate. One time I wasn't fast enough…"

She rubbed her wrist again and chased the images of a small, frightened elf crying in a corner, away before continuing the story.

"When Knight-Commander Alim died due to unknown causes, Gregoir succeded him. At that time he had been stationed at our Tower from Starkhaven. He believed First Enchanter Daryen had slipped poison into Alim's drink, but could not prove it. It didn't really matter since Daryen too died, of old age and Irving came in his place. Things changed; the whippings and the starvation stopped, the beatings continued…", she sighed.

Fenris listened to her tale in silence. The mage's lives had been similar to those of the slaves in Tevintar. The beatings when something when wrong… the starvation when they tried to talk back… the whippings when they ran away.

"Never hit where it can be seen, never hit where it can cripple and never use more than a wooden cane," she continued. "That was the new motto, but we were glad. Anders was lucky because he was so damn charismatic. First time he ran they let him off because it was a first offense. The second time he fell off the boat when we were going to gather herbs and everyone assumed he was swimming to keep from drowning, not actually escape. Third time he charmed the Templar woman that came after him… the woman blushed whenever she saw him. Fourth time he came wounded from a fight with a bandit so they let him off. Fifth time was worse. Sixth time he got himself thrown in solitary… I blew up a classroom in order to get the same punishment. I remained there for three months, he for a year. Seventh time he actually got away."

She remembered his face in solitary… pale, haunted, desperately wanting to get away, to escape. For him it was prison, for her it was freedom… no sneers, no taunts, no fights… she hadn't done it for him, she had done it for herself because she couldn't stand them anymore, because Jowan couldn't be everywhere and they were too many.

"Then, if his life in the Tower was better for him than for others, why is he so…?" Fenris started, but was not allowed to finish. Neria gazed at him with mourning emerald eyes which still felt every hit and every insult.

"Bitter… vengefull…merciless?" she sighed, "You must understand, Fenris. Anders was fifteen, he had a life, a family, a mother whose cries followed him to the Tower and a father who stood powerless as his child was taken. He had tasted freedom and it was addictive for him. He had to regain it no matter what."

"But what about you?" Fenris almost shouted, "From what you tell me, you and others suffered much more, but you didn't go blowing up Chantries. You didn't burn the Circle to the ground when you had the opportunity! If the tales are true, you saved it. At last that ballad said so."

"Ah yes, Leliana's ballad," Neria chuckled, and then turned sober. "Fenris, what am I?" Seeing his confused gaze, she continued: "I'm an elf and not one of the Dalish. Elves are born in the Alienage, they grow in the Alienage and they die in the Alienage. We may not be slaves like those from Tevintar, but we may as well be. If we're lucky we can move from one Alienage to another, but that's all. Human women scorn us, human men beat us… it's just another prison. I never knew how to live free. I was simply trading one prison to another. Then I joined the Wardens and responsibility was trust upon my shoulders, responsibility I did not know how to handle. I started seeing the world differently then."

"I think I understand your point," the elf nodded reluctantly. "For someone who has been free as long as the mage had been, being confined all of a sudden must have been," he grimaced forcing the word out, "traumatic at least."

They remained in silence, Fenris sipping his glass of Aggregio and Neria looking at her own glass with an unreadable expression. She had not expected being able to enter his dreams… she had not expected being able to talk so casually… she had not thought it possible for him to view her in a different light. All through her story, he had seemed to understand her story and that meant he had lived in a similar way… had he been a slave? Hawke had mentioned he came from Tevinter… was that why he hated magic, because of what he saw there? She wanted to find out more…

Suddenly the edges of the mansion started turning blurry, the furniture swirled and debris scattered everywhere disappeared. Neria rose to her feet and headed towards the door of the study calmly, as if the world around them was not merely a swirl of colors.

"I will take my leave then. Once again I apologize for intruding… tell Anna hi for me please."

Fenris nodded and glanced again at the circular scar on the mage's wrist. As the dream ended he could not help but wonder how she had received that scar.

Rays of light tickled his face, waking him up. He groaned and stretched like a cat, finding out that for the first time in his life he had overslept. He kept thinking back to the conversation he dreamt he had… or had it been real? He thought back to her eyes, plagued by her time in the tower as his own were plagued by the time with Danarius and he understood for the first time they were not so different.

Somewhere, in the wilderness, in the middle of nowhere, heading towards a mage called Avernus, a red haired elf woke with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.


	13. Trouble brewing at the horizon

**A/N Once again thank you for your reviews. The last chapter was interesting to write and I thought of making it longer, but decided against it as it would have seemed that the dream was unnaturally long. Now, we get to see what the Commander is doing during her trip towards Avernus. Disclaimer still stands :D**

* * *

><p>She could not believe how stupid and careless they had been… especially her and Zevran, one couldn't expect much from Oghren even in a sober state. Actually, he was more careful when he was drunk. It was probably a dwarf thing!<p>

So what if there were no darkspawn threatening the land? So what if there was no civil war looming? You never drop your guard! That was the first lesson she had learned in the Tower, but her mind had been elsewhere, at a silver haired elf and her blonde haired child and she had gotten careless. She had no idea what kind of excuse Zevran had, after all, the elf had been tracking the remaining Crows all across Thedas so he was always on his guard. But now, due to their carelessness they had been put face to face with a group of five Templars that looked as if they had stumbled across a large bounty.

"Look her, brothers," the eldest of them said, a man with a receding hairline and crazy looking dark eyes, "we've stumbled across a pair of knife-ears and a dwarf. And guess what…" he licked his lips in pleasure and added in an icy whisper, as if trying to frighten Neria's group, "one of them is a mage."

The Templars formed a circle around them, trying to look towering and menacing. Zevran appeared to be bored out of him mind, while Neria had a thundering look on her face and Oghren a devious smirk.

"Now, then," a second templar said, this time a younger one with ginger hair and blue eyes, "what would a mage be doing away from her Circle, unaccompanied by a Templar. Running away are we?" he stepped closer to Neria and the Warden merely scowled.

"Probably one of those Kirkwall scum," spat a third one. "King Alistair is much too lenient with those bastards."

"A Grey Warden has no business explaining herself to Templars," the mage spat with ire and the metal encased men laughed.

"You hear that, brothers, a Grey Warden!" the first one cackled gleefully, "The knife-ear is a Grey Warden and I am the estranged brother of King Alistair." He stepped towards her and wondered in surprise why her friends were not making any moves to help her. Unless they were afraid… like all of their inferior kin... "Now you will come with me nicely, or we will make you, elf!" he spat and made a move as if to grab Neria's arm. The Commander raised her eyebrows mockingly and in the following moment he had been blasted to the ground. He had not even been able to see her cast.

"Now, boys," she drawled sarcastically, "naughty children who play with fire get burned."

The ginger haired Templar howled in fury and sent a smite her way. The mage stood her ground, not even flinching when the attack drained her mana. Taking her twin daggers out of their hilts she grinned wickedly and allowed Zevran to do the introductions.

"Really, 'tis most unfortunate to bring upon you the ire of the Antivan Crows. You do know they are merciless assassins, no?" Bringing out his longsword and Crow dagger, he too advanced upon the Templars before adding, "Oh and it would have been really good not to annoy this lovely lady. She is, after all, the Commander of the Grey and the Arlessa of Amaranthine."

The five Templars froze to the spot upon hearing whom they had chosen to pick on. However, instead of admitting defeat, they attacked, confident that strength lied in numbers. Usually that may have been so, but when dealing with the Slayer of the Archdemon things were not so simple…

The one with a receding hairline attacked Neria with fury, angered by the fact that a mere mage had overpowered him so easily. The elf had learned to fight against a larger opponent a long time ago, after all one didn't kill an ogre without learning a few tricks. She made sure to use her agility and her ability to move easier in a light armor as compared to the heavy gear of the Templar. She danced around him, letting him get tired on his own while he slashed forward and parried her viciously fast hits. The dagger was risky, it meant you had to be close to your opponent, but the hits were more accurate if one managed to land them.

Zevran was having the time of his life… as an assassin he had relied on the shadows and his stealth, but being on the road with Neria had given him a larger range of abilities. He parried and thrust, taunting the ginger haired Templar that had him engaged. His adversary was already panting heavily and had understood he had no chance to keep up with the agile elf. When the hilt of the dagger buried itself in the Templar's chest, he had only a split of a second to understand he had chosen his battles most unwisely. Zevran merely retried his knife and chose another victim in order to relieve Oghren of the burden of battling two foes.

Oghren was busy making fun of his opponent, while his huge axe powered by runes was giving the Templar a run for his money. The dwarf's laugh boomed in the wilderness while the Templar got redder and redder with anger and shame of being overpowered by a mere dwarf.

The fifth Templar, much younger than the other four, merely a boy on the cusp of adulthood, stood away from the battle, gazing in wonder at the whole thing. He had never seen anyone fight as well as the three… he would have been a fool to engage them in battle. He was never one for racist slurs and believed that mages also had a right to leave in peace. It was not their fault that they had been born they way they had. His cousin had been taken to the Tower when she was merely five years old and later died during the attack of the blood mages. He watched the Hero of Ferelden in particular and better understood the tales and ballads of the Blight. Their leader stood no chance when she finally managed to bury her dagger in his arms, despite the fact that she had been wounded, and with the little mana she recovered, sent a blast of electricity through the weapon directly in the man's body.

When they turned towards him, eyes filled with battle lust, he swallowed nervously. He had no wish to fight them, nor did he wish to appear a coward.

"Looks like there's another Chantry boy! Should we teach this nug humper a lesson as well?" Oghren drawled, readying his mace.

"Well, Templar?" Neria demanded, "You saw what happened to your friends! Do you wish to follow in their footsteps?"

"No, Commander," he gulped,"Never wanted to follow 'em in the first place. Had to earn my keep though… Templars got me fed and clothed. Better than rotting in a dump somewhere. Or an orphanage…"

"What's your name?" Neria asked without the former edge in her voice.

"Garret, ma'am," the Templar answered politely, hoping to be able to make it out alive.

"Did they put you on lyrium already, Garret," the elf continued her questioning.

"No ma'am… I was to start the day after tomorrow, after taking the vows. Said I was too young before."

"I cannot offer you anything save your life. You did not attack me. If you want to leave and rejoin the Templar you may do so. But, know this, if you are not strong, you will become a blubbering fool addicted to lyrium and with no choice of ever escaping it. You will lose your memory first, then your mind."

The boy flinched on the spot as if ever word Neria uttered was in fact a blow. He had known all this, naturally, everyone knew what happened to some Templars, but to hear it put so bluntly. He wondered if there was no real chance for him…

"I… I… don't want that, ma'am. But there ain't no choice for me. I'm an orphan… the only thing I'm good at is fight."

Neria sighed and looked at her other two friends who looked thorn between pity and anger; pity for a child who never had any real choices presented to him and anger at a system that crippled children and turned them into addicted fanatics.

"If you fight as well as you claim then go to Vigil's Keep. Search for Sergent Maverlais and tell her I sent you. Then ask guardsman Donnic to train you. If, by the time I get back, you can hold your own against me in battle with no magic involved, you may join the guards from Amaranthine."

"Maker bless ya, ma'am!" The young man's face broke in a smile and he dashed away as fast as the uncomfortable suit allowed him. He vowed to reach the nearest village, sell his armor and two-handed sword and buy himself a complete gear made of leather and a longsword like the one he used at practice.

"Now I be damned, Commander," Oghren snorted ,"still helping lost souls."

"He reminded me of someone," Neria said softly and started walking forward. He reminded her of another orphan boy who had been given to the Chantry, another young man who had been thrust in the arms of the Templars only to be saved in the last moment by a Grey Warden. Now the boy that had been saved, the Warden she had laughed with and the man she loved was different… he had become a King. She, on the other hand, had remained an elf.

_"You two can never be together," Arl Eamon had spat last time she had seen him, "He is King. You are a mage and a Warden! You are an elf! Any children you will have will never be able to become heirs to the throne. The country will be plunged in chaos! You cannot be that selfish!"_

She had lost it then… for her it had been worse than a slap, being called selfish. She would have died for that country had Morrigan not presented her with the deal… a deal which she almost denied until she saw the utter wretchedness in her friend's eyes. Morrigan may have had other motives before, but in that moment she looked thorn between doing what's right and doing what would have made her happy. Neria decided to make the choice for her…

_"You dare," the Warden had said then, with a voice as cold as ice. "Had I been selfish your entire family would have been dead, Arl Eamon. Had I been selfish this whole country would have burned while I crossed the seas towards the Free Marches, for the Maker knows I never owed anyone anything and only received scorn. You, ser, have crossed the line. Pray this is the last time we see each other. But, know this, you live now thanks to a mere elf! You and your MAGE son!"_

She had stomped out of his office and out of Denerim forever… that had been five years ago and she had never regretted her decision.

"Are you alright, beautiful?" Zevran asked putting a hand on her shoulder. Neria nodded and changed the subject.

"I'm wondering whether Avernus will really be able to give us some relevant information. His experiments have been, ummm, volatile at best."

"Sounds rather pointless to be going there, no? Still, you always seem to, how do you Fereldans say it, beat the odds. There may be something interesting in the old Warden's experiments, no?"

"In any case, Commander," Oghren said gruffly, "there ain't any chance of finding something in that filthy Tower they erected in the middle of the lake. Not to mention I can't swim so a boat would 've been a really bad choice. Better he heading to the crazy old man!"

Neria laughed, recalling an image of Oghren falling in the small creak that was running next to Vigil's Creep. Still, at the back of her mind, she had a nagging feeling that she will live to regret going so see Avernus… if they managed to make it there in one piece…


	14. Frolicking in the woods

_**A/N Here's the forest chapter for you guys. As previously mentioned some things have been changed in this chapter after checking some issue on the DA wikia, as I was not satisfied with the way I made them. As usual I do not own anything, the whole thing belongs to Bioware.**_

* * *

><p>The branches of the trees were creaking ominously in the night… a harsh wind was blowing through the woods making the travelers shiver. Noises could be heard everywhere as they stepped over roots and fallen leaves, trying to find their way to the Dalish Camp. Merill was curiously quiet and had not uttered more than a few words since they left Vigil's Keep.<p>

Hawke stood always on the edge, alert at anything that could threaten her friends' lives. Anders seemed to be returning a bit to his usual self and Hawke noticed in surprise that Justice seemed to have buried himself somewhere deep inside the mage's soul. Something appeared to have happened with the spirit when they arrived in Ferelden.

The former Champion of Kirkwall seriously doubted her choice to head towards the woods when they knew nothing of this clan Neria had spoken of. Sure, they had received a letter from the Commander that was to be delivered to Keeper Lanaya, but that was all. For all she knew the elves would make certain they would never be found leaving them to wander aimlessly in circles. Even Merill admitted it was hard tracking down a clan that did not want to be found. However, Neria had assured them that Lanaya and her people sometimes dealt with humans, especially the Wardens, legacy of their heroic fight during the Blight.

Three weeks had passed since they had left Vigil's Keep. Two they had spent on the road as they walked towards the Brecillian Forest. The road has been somewhat perilous as they had met small contingents of Templars on their way and they had to make sure they were not seen. Moreover, despite the fact that darkspawn no longer threatened the roads, several animals whose sires had been tainted by the Blight still prowled in the wilderness. They had reached the woods battered and tired; were it not for the fact that they had found a roll of abandoned huts, the only signs of what was probably once a village, they would have been in a worst for the wear shape. As such they spent a day recovering and left in search of the village.

However, days had passed any they did not seem any closer to their query. Night was falling rapidly and they had to set camp soon.

"Guys," Hawke called out softly, not wanting to disturb anything that remained better undisturbed. "How about we call it a night for today? We set camp, start a fire and rest!"

The others nodded silently and started setting the camp. Merill set fire to some twigs and crossed her legs on the ground, drowning in silence. Anders put up both Merill's tent and his. He and Hawke had been sharing one since the start of the journey as it was unnecessary to burthen themselves with an extra tent. They ate in silence, not knowing what to say and missing Varric tremendously. He always knew how to brighten up even the direst situation. They went to sleep and their night was a restless one, always tossing and turning, too tired to actually stay awake and keep vigil, but too frightened to close their eyes properly. Merely hours before dawn broke they finally managed to pass in the world of dreams, too tired to fight sleep anymore.

Hawke was the first one to wake up… she soon noticed she was no longer in her tent, but rather under a crooked tree that was creaking ominously. Her armor and her weapons had been taken and she was left wearing only her nightclothes and a blanket over her. Her hands and legs were bound. Next to her Anders had received the same treatment. Merill, on the other hand had been allowed to keep her robes, but she too was bound. Raising her eyes, Hawke saw at least three bows with arrows prepared pointed at their faces. They were dressed in dark colors in order to blend with the woods and their ears were pointy. Tattoos marked their faces… they had finally found the Dalish.

A female with harsh features, a scowl marring her face and dark scars on her cheek stepped forward, bow still in hand. She was taller than most elves, with a lean figure, but life seemed to have scarred her for life.

"I see you are awake, shem! What are you doing in these woods? Speak swiftly! And what is she," here she pointed at Merill, "doing traveling with you. No Dalish would step so low as to travel with a shem!"

Hawke gazed at her unflinching and spoke, not giving an answer to any of her questions.

"And yet you fought alongside humans in order to stop the Blight from turning the land into ask."

The elven archer's features softened somewhat and she nodded slightly.

"That happened long ago! At that time the shems that asked for our help were led by one of our own. They proved their worth and saved our clan. It was only fair we aided them in battle, for the Blight affected us as well, not only shems and dwarves. But, we have not met others like them ever since."

Hawke would have whooped in joy seeing as she was right. Next to her Anders and Merill had come to their senses and watched the exchange in silence, allowing their leader to deal with the situation at hand.

"My name is Seraphina Hawke, although everyone calls me Hawke. These are my friends Anders and Merill. We have traveled a long distance, coming from Kirkwall. We have been sent here by one of your own, Warden Commander Neria Surana to talk to your Keeper, Lanaya. There is a letter for her in my bag as well as a pendant Neria received from a member of your clan in order to prove we are who we claim."

"They speak the truth, Lyna," a soft voice came from behind the archers. The elf that came was a woman with soft features and long, blonde hair, braided in severe buns at the base of her neck. Her eyes were calm and warm, smiling upon seeing the three travelers. "Neria spoke fondly of you and I know she does not do so idly. Therefore I believe you can be trusted. She told me you had a question for me regarding the way we train our mages. But we will talk more soon, I believe for now clothes are in order."

Lyna and two other elves, a young looking one which Lanaya called Cammen and a red haired female elf that appeared to have been his lover called Gheyna gave the three travelers their weapons and their clothes back. Their bags had also been packed by the elves and the tents folded, although they had been searched in order to find out who the strangers are.

"Hawke," Lanaya called softly and gave the woman back the pendant she had received from Neria. "Please give this back to Neria. Athras passed away a year ago and he always spoke so highly of her. I believe they even kept in touch for some time. She will want it back."

"Thank you, Lanaya," the mage answered softly.

"Now, come, tell me what brought you here. Surely something grave as Neria rarely seeks out aid. She promised to help us live in peace and she has kept her promise."

"Keeper, we were wondering why Dalish and Chasind mages rarely turn to blood magic and even then rarely become abominations," Anders interfered, "while the mages trained in the Circle fall prey to demons easily."

"I do not know what methods they use in the tower, but why did you not ask your friend. She is a mage surely she can answer."

"Merill," Hawke inquired softly.

The petite elf mage shook her head in denial: "I'm afraid I can't. I never finished my training as a First and Keeper Marethari did not have the chances to talk to me about such things. My control over magic has always been steady and she was more occupied teaching me our history."

"I see… well as I said I do not know what the Circle teaches, but here when we find children who display magic abilities, before training them to become a Keeper's first we teach them meditation," Lanaya explained," Were you not thought the same way as a child, Merill?"

"I had only one or two lessons and it was decided that I did not need them. I had no idea the lessons were so important," the elf blushed.

"I see," Lanaya chuckled, "it appears you were a little prodigy. I, myself, went through numerous meditation lessons. My past has been less than stellar and I had much hate bottled up against humans. Until I learned to let it go my magic was erratic and tended to backfire. We teach our children meditation because magic relies on emotions. The more instable one is, the more instable his or her magic becomes. At first they are taught breathing techniques… they spent long minutes listening only to their heartbeat until they become calm. After we teach them to shield their minds from emotions in order to make sure they do not take over. They learn to imagine their safe sanctuary and they hide there until all negative emotions have passed. With meditation, a strong willed mage can even learn to ignore pain in different amounts. Demons feed on negative emotions… the more desperate one is, the more likely it is for him to become an abomination. Our mages would even be able to use blood magic, because their emotions are kept at bay and the demons are not hungered by thoughts of revenge or anger. Personally, I still meditate everyday to keep my emotions in check… especially when little apprentices managed to hit me in the head with rocks and twigs while trying their levitating spells."

Anders had remained speechless… meditation? It seemed perfectly plausible and he knew that Lanaya spoke the truth. No matter how good your control over magic is, when you become angry or frustrated in reacts in an unpredictable way. The way Dalish thought their children to meditate from the moment their magic surface meant by the time their magic reached its peak they already had a perfect control over it. Almost unbreakable unless something tragic, like what happened to Velanna, takes place. Which also meant that was why Merill had not been possessed by the demon she had "talked" to. Because her control was much better than a regular mage's. It probably also had something to do with the fact that she was always so absent-minded.

"That's all?" Hawke asked in shock."It's so simple and yet so perfectly plausible. Had Senior Enchanters known that many mages would not have been lost. But you do have cases of possession as well, don't you?"

"We have," Lanaya said softly. "There are those who are too weak an unprepared to deal with their magic. We have them as well… humans turn these mages Tranquil, but we do not have the heart to do so. We prefer to watch them and when they start manifesting signs of possession we slip a swift poison in their food. It kills instantly with no paid and is much better than being alive without actually leaving. Those that turn to blood magic are harder to deal with. Some clans, such as ours, are much more permissive with those that are found using the forbidden arts, though they are kept under constant supervision. Others do not suffer blood magic…" Lanaya left her thoughts unfinished, making the two human mages wonder what happened to those accused of using the forbidden arts. "It is the shems' fault that we are no longer able to use the forbidden arts safely. Blood magic belonged to the elves of the Arlathan, but so much has been lost since those times… so many lessons… so much history. I believe our former Keeper, Zathrian, had regained some knowledge of the past, but he died before sharing it with me. He saved our clan from the werewolf curse…"

"That certainly is something to ponder on," Hawke admitted.

"Have I answered all your questions, Hawke?" Lanaya asked kindly, "You had a long voyage in order to ask only a few things."

"We are trying to pick up many pieces and decide how we can help mages all over Ferelden. Things will get out of control soon and we need to be prepared," Hawke explained.

"I understand… please let Neria know that I will aid you to the best of my possibilities."

"You have helped very much, Keeper," Anders said with a thoughtful expression on his face. Perhaps his problem with Justice could be solved the same way as the problem to wayward magic. Anders shuddered remembering the punishments apprentices went through in the Tower when their magic got out of control.

Suddenly a small group of hunters entered the camp, carrying wolf pelts and meat all bundled up. There were four of them and the youngest one had a haunted look on his face. He walked almost automatic, as if his life no longer had any purpose. Merill gasped upon seeing him; the hunter, curios about the unknown voices turned his face towards the Keeper and her guests. Rage filled him as soon as he saw Merill and the young mage broke into tears seeing the look of utter hatred he gave her. Taking his bow he strode towards the three under the Keeper's astonished glances.

"You flat-eared bitch, you dare show your face in a clan's camp again," he snarled and grabbed his arrow. "If you did not learn your lesson the first time, perhaps you will learn it better at the Creator's side."

"Athenos, please," Merill cried out. "Let me explain!"

"Explain what, you filthy blood mage? How you killed our Keeper! How could you explain that?"

The elf called Athenos was standing with his bow ready, aimed towards Merill's heart. His hands were trembling slightly as he moved his bow and his face was twisted in rage.

"Time to die, wench!" he cried and released the arrow… everything started going in slow motion. Anders and Hawke had remained frozen on their spot, not being close enough to push Merill from the arrow's path. The petite mage also stood frozen, but other reasons were clouding her thoughts. Tears were running down her cheeks as she spread her arms, as if embracing the blow, and closed her eyes. Lanaya cast a freezing spell on the arrow, but missed.

Athenos watched in wild satisfaction as they arrow flew directly towards its target, only to be thwarted in the last moment by a blurry figure that pushed Merill to the ground. The arrow grazed the figure's arm and got stuck in the ground.

"What in the name of the Creators is happening here," an angry female voice, demanded getting up from the ground and pulling Merill with her.


	15. Dangers in the wilds

_**A/N Riiiight! So here is the next chapter of the forest series. Here I have added some stuff instead of changing them. I'm curious to see whether anyone picks the reference to another RPG game that I placed in this chapter. Hope you enjoy the new versions better than the old ones. Still looking for a beta, by the way… just so you know if anyone wants to help.**_

* * *

><p>"What in the name of the Creators is happening here?" an angry female voice demanded getting up from the ground and pulling Merill with her. The newcomer was also an elf, with dark blond hair tied in a short ponytail and furious green eyes. She was wearing a fine looking leather armor, as well as leather boots and fingerless leather gloves. On her back she held her quiver and her bow, who were now sitting crooked due to her fall. The arrow had wounded her shoulder and blood was not flowing from the cut, but it did not appear very deep.<p>

"Arianni!" Hawke gasped in surprise upon looking at the elf woman. She no longer wore the rags of the Alienage and looked as she always should have, like a proud Dalish warrior.

"Well met, serah Hawke! Now what is this nonsense, Athenos? Shooting arrows at your own kin! And you, Merill! Why did you not duck?"

The elf mage shot her a look of utter distress and Arianni understood that she still blamed herself for the events that took place in the Dalish camp. Athenos, on the other hand, was as vengeful as ever. He took out his hunting knife prepared to finish what he had started. Both Hawke and Anders now had time to react and positioned themselves in front of Merill to shield her.

"Get away from that thing, Arianni! I will go through her friends and finish them as well, but I will have my revenge. She killed the Keeper!" he cried out "She destroyed our clan! She's a filthy blood mage!"

"And you are a blind fool," the woman spat in rage. "The Keeper was possessed by a demon. Had she lost her control she would have killed us all!"

"So they say," he accused.

"NO, so I say for I have seen what happened," Arianni bit back and Hawke looked at her in surprise. She had been there, with them, when Marethari was possessed?

"I do not understand what is happening here," Lanaya interfered, "but I see terrible events took place in your past. You only told me that your clan was no longer able to stay united, Arianni, and therefore you and Athenos left to find another clan. I see there is more to this story than I have known."

"There is, Keeper," Arianni stated softly, "and this young one should have been able to protect herself from Athenos and tell you everything herself. But since she is so guilt ridden, I will tell the tale for her." She paused and took a deep breath, then started her tale:

"When I was young and foolish I met a merchant from Antiva called Vincento. He was a handsome one and knew his way with words so I fell in love with him. I believe, at one point, he loved me too. However, when our child was born he no longer wanted anything to do with us. So I remained in the Alienage and raised Feynriel by myself. As he grew, he started showing magical abilities, but I hid him, wanting to protect him from the Circle. Still, as years passed, he began developing nightmares. First they were rare, one or two a month, but soon,he started having more and more and they became really intense. I contacted a Templar, Ser Trask who I knew would help me. But Feynriel ran away before he could go to the Circle. Hawke and Merill were the ones to find him and protect him. They sent him to live with Merill's Clan that was stationed on the Wounded Coast. However, even there he was not protected. His nightmares took over him and Hawke entered the Fade to save him. It was revealed he was a Somniari and everyone agreed it was best if he was sent to the Tevintar Imperium to learn to control his powers."

Lanaya listened to the tale in silence, hoping to understand what caused Athenos to be so bitter and Merill to feel so guilty.

"After Feynriel left," Arianni continued, "I had no reason to remain in the Alienage. I went and joined Merill's Clan and saw, as years passed by, how the Keeper became sadder and more worried than ever. She started keeping to herself more and more, ignoring those around her. A few times I even saw her alone, in the dead of the night, whispering incomprehensive words to the darkness surrounding us. So I stood and waited, for I knew that every time something was wrong, Hawke would make an almost magical appearance. Thus the day came when Merill arrived accompanied by Hawke and another elf to our clan. They followed the mountain path and went to see the strange idol that was rumored to have kept the soul of a demon trapped inside. It was located in a cave, near the mountain top. A few minutes later, the Keeper went after them and so I panicked, thinking that something must be wrong. I followed them, being silent as a shadow and reached the mountain top a few moments after the Keeper."

She closed her eyes, recalling the events that took place during that day, ignoring the sting of her tears at the corner of her eyes. It had been too much to bear seeing the Keeper turn into a demon and now, recalling it was even worse.

"The Keeper explained that the demon was no longer in the idol. Merill had wanted to ask it something and hadn't found it there. The Keeper admitted to have taken the demon inside her in order to protect Merill. She was afraid that the demon would have tried to possess the mage and she loved Merill as if she was her own daughter. She wouldn't have bared seeing her in danger. But the Keeper was losing control and the demon took over her. The only thing that could be done was kill Marethari, otherwise the demon would have killed everyone. During their fight, the walls of the cave shook as if an earthquake hit them and a large rock fell from the ceiling. I managed to duck it, but it fell trapping me between it and other boulders. I was barely able to move and nobody could see me there. By the time I got out the Keeper was dead and our clan was in pieces. Despite the fact that Hawke had protected Merill some of the hunters of our clan rushed to Kirkwall to kill the mage."

Merill glanced at Hawke, bewildered and the look of utter wretchedness she saw on the other's face was enough to convince her that Ariannin was telling the truth. It also told what had happened to said clan members.

"Oh, Hawke…" Merill gasped and tried to stifle her tears.

"We tried to reason with them," Hawke admitted lowering her gaze to the ground, "We tried to explain, both me and Fenris. But they would not see reason and they attacked… we only defended ourselves."

Arianni nodded and looked at Athenos… he was still mad, but there was remorse and guilt in his eyes as well. He was ashamed to have reacted as he did, but at the same time, he did not want to apologize.

"The rest of us scattered everywhere," Arianni added," Athenos and I decided to find a new clan. I do not know what happened to the others."

A loud noise interrupted her story and she looked at her former clan member. He had thrown his weapons to the ground and strode to his tent, wanting to hide from everyone and everything.

"I think I understand better what happened," Lanaya said with a sad voice. "Such tragedies occur rarely among the Dalish and their impact is bigger. You shouldn't blame yourself, young mage," she turned to Merill, "every parent always does what it's best for his child. Marethari wanted to protect you, even if she chose the wrong path to do so. However, I am afraid I must ask you to leave. I would have gladly welcomed you to remain a few days with us and rest, but in light of the current event I am afraid it will do more harm than good. I will make sure to give you enough food and healing supplies to last for some time, but I'm afraid I cannot offer more."

"We understand, Lanaya," Anders interfered politely, "It would do no good to put salt on his wounds. He needs to recover and understand what really happened."

Next to them Arianni was holding Merill in a tight hug, while the petite mage cried. At some times the older elf whispered soft words in her ear trying to ease her pain, while rocking her like a child. She knew Merill had loved Marethari and she understood why it was so hard of the mage to let the past go.

Hours later the trio had returned to the road, feeling much better than they had left in years. Hawke was glad to have met Arianni again and see her life had turned much better than it had been, Merill was finally starting to forgive herself and Anders was actually trying to practice the meditation techniques Lanaya had told him about. All in all, they were in much higher spirits.

The road was winding in front of them and by the time the sun had reached its peak they had traveled a great distance from the Dalish Camp. Hawke remembered her father's words from when she was little and he was training her and Bethany:

_"Never use magic when you're mad, Sera! No matter how good of a control you think you have, magic is unpredictable and can react in unknown ways. Always count to ten and clear your mind, then fire a spell."_

It seemed as if her father was using the same practices as the Dalish, at a smaller level. Still, although in the long run the news did not help very much, by piecing up bits like this they had a greater chance at changing the way people view mages.

As distracted as they were, they did not see the group that surrounded them, a group of people whose faces were painted and whose clothes were made from animal skins. They watched the travelling trio in silence, until, at one moment, their leader made a small gesture and his men closed up on the travelers. Hawke and her friends halted.

"Halt!" the leader of the group said with a heavy accent, "You are getting close to a Chasind tribe. You may not pass any further!"

Even though the Chasind were mostly peaceful tribes, they had their share of secrets they had to keep and were therefore less than inclined to let anyone pass their borders. When they were able, they chased strangers away peacefully, but when they were not, their bows and knives did the talking for them.

"We mean you no harm," Hawke raised her hands in the air in an offering of peace. "We were trying to make our way out of these woods after meeting with the Keeper of a Dalish Clan. We had no idea we were trespassing."

"The Dalish allowed you in their camp," the leader asked in surprise. "That is almost unheard of. Yet I see that you are mages and cannot help but wonder what are three magic wielders seeking to find in the Wilds."

The three travelers looked torn… on one hand they also wanted to learn off the Chasind's methods to train their young mages. On the other hand was it prudent to reveal their motives? Hawke gazed at her friends trying to see what they thought of this situation.

The leader of the group gazed at them strangely and said:

"Long time has passes since we have met a man worthy of being in our tribe. Long indeed… However, you seen to have the blessing of the spirits surrounding you as you have stumbled about this place unharmed. Perhaps the gods wish us to allow you passage. Come with us…"

Hawke and her friends followed obediently, wondering if they were making a mistake or if they actually had the chance to learn something useful. The Chasind led them down a winding path, going deeper and deeper in the heart of the forest. They passed a group of oddly shaped rocks and moved passed two caves that looked as if they harbored wild animals inside them. After almost an hour of twists and turns they finally arrived at a series of oddly shaped huts and tents that were hidden from view by tall, looming trees. People clad in animal skins were moving here and there, some preparing lunch for the tribe, women tending to the children and elders, holding crude carved staffs, sitting by the fire and smoking a strange weed.

The trio was directed towards the leader of the tribe, an old and wrinkled shaman that stood next to the biggest tent observing the bustling of activity with stern, but concerned eyes. His hair was long and white, braided with red beads. His eyes were silver grey, stern, unmoving, like those of the Qunari. He was not a tall man, but despite his age, he held himself with the dignity required of a tribe leader.

"Elder," the leader of the group stepped forward and gave a bow, "I bring before you these strangers that we found wondering the woods. They claim to have been admitted by the Dalish in their clan. They are magic wielders."

"So I can feel," the elder's voice rang deep in the woods, "Speak strangers! You claim to have been in the graces of the Dalish. How did it come to be so? Can you prove your words?"

In that moment Merill stepped forward and bowed as she had seen the leader of the group before her. The elder's eyes widened seeing a Dalish in his clan.

"Andaran atish'an, Elder!" the petite mage greeted the shaman, "It is an honor to be allowed to see your tribe. My friends and I have been received by Keeper Lanaya courtesy of one of my kin, Neria Surana the defeater of the Blight. She allowed us to present an amulet left in her care by a hunter of the clan in order to prove our good intentions. "

"You would have been enough, I believe, young one," the Chasind elder laughed, "There is no amulet more powerful than the call of blood. You were one of their own. For me that is enough, I do not wish to see that amulet. It is a token that should have remained in the Slayer's hands. Tell me, what do you seek in these woods? "

"Fire and ice threaten the land…" Merill said softly, "Change is coming swiftly across Thedas and I do not know whether my kin or the Chasind will be able to fight it. _Asha'bellanar _herself advised to caution. All we can do is find our place in this changed world. We wish to learn more about how mages are trained within the clans and the tribes in hope that we will also be able to make a change."

" 'tis a most simple practice," the shaman said calmly. "The children that prove they have the ability to become magic wielders are trained by the tribe's shaman as soon as they show the signs. They are thought how to focus and understand the elements. They listen to the wind… watch the fire… understand how the rain falls and touch the earth… when they grow older they use weed from the swamp in order to focus better and channel their attention."

"Swamp weed?" the trio asked in surprise.


End file.
